When In Doubt
by GPP
Summary: Mary and Marshall set out to find Mary's father. Nothing could have prepared them for what they would discover.   WARNING: later chapters will contain explicit adult content that is not suitable for younger readers.
1. Act I, Scene 1

**This Green Penguin Production is the labour of 30 days and 30 nights (mostly nights). Brought to you by two IPS fanatics, a few gallons of apple juice, a half million bottles of purple powerade, three time zones, two camping trips and over 1000 text messages. We hope you like it!**

**When In Doubt…**

**Act I, Scene I**

Life had never been particularly kind to Mary Shannon, so she should have known something bad was coming when an entire year of holidays passed without a hitch. She and Marshall were happy, her mother had a new boyfriend who horrified her daughters but who also kept Jinx and her troubles out of everyone's hair most days, and Brandi and Peter had passed the three month mark living together without breaking up. Life was nearly perfect and it had lulled Mary into warm complacency. But life doesn't like to be ignored, and waited only until the New Year to rear its ugly head.

On January first, she woke up to the sound of someone banging around in her kitchen. It couldn't be Marshall since he was asleep beside her, one long arm still loosely wrapped around her waist. Groggy and pissed, Mary staggered from the bedroom, coming to a dead halt at the kitchen door.

"Faber?" her voice squeaked in surprise and she quickly adjusted her tone, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

The FBI agent stammered for a moment, a bottle opener dangling from his hand right. "I – well – you see –"

Marshall, who woke as soon as Mary pulled away from him to check out the noise, was instantly at her side buttoning up his pants as he watched the scene unfold before him.

"He's with me," Jinx's voice floated in from the living room.

Mary's head whipped around so fast that Marshall got a taste of her hair. Her shampoo did not taste like it smelled; he spat it out and followed her gaze.

Jinx entered the kitchen, a bottle of unopened wine in her hands.

"Jesus, mom!" Mary gestured emphatically in Faber's direction, "What the hell were you thinking bringing your boy toy here? Need I remind you that you don't live here anymore?"

"Honestly Mary," Jinx's voice was condescending, "Mike and I were just picking up the last of my things."

Marshall noticed Mary's shoulders growing more and more tense with every passing second and he moved to place his hand on her back.

Mary looked from the bottle in her mother's hands to her ex's face incredulously, finally throwing her hands up in surrender. "Fine, just ... get your stuff and get him out of my house."

Marshall moved his hand from her back to her waist in a protective gesture as he pulled her against him. He caught sight of Faber leering at Mary's bra-less chest and narrowed his eyes.

Jinx seemed oblivious to all of this as she grabbed one last box and they were out the door.

"Well that was," Marshall grasped for a word that would cover the experience,"… interesting."

Mary snorted with laughter. "You can say that again," she felt Marshall's chest hitch as if he really were going to, so she spun around in his arms and kissed him.

It was nearly a week before Mary realized the visit was more than interesting... it was catastrophic.

The atom bomb came in the form of an e-mail from Mike Faber.

It wasn't unusual for her mother's boyfriend to send her work related emails. They did occasionally have cases that overlapped despite Mary's best efforts not to. This email however, was of a different nature.

Mary,

Jinx tells me you have letters from James Shannon in your home. As a U.S. Marshal you are required to turn over any evidence to the appropriate authorities. I like you, Kitten, so if you send the letters to me by the end of the week I won't report you.

- Faber

Marshall noticed right off the bat that something had changed in Mary's demeanor. "Mare?" He could see her trembling and he stood so quickly his chair slammed into the filing cabinet behind him.

Mary's face began to turn red and he noticed the beginnings of tears prick the corners of her eyes as she turned to him. She stood up with one fluid motion and ran out towards the balcony. Marshall was right behind her.

He found her leaning against the wall, arms wrapped around her belly and he pulled her into his arms as if his strong chest could absorb whatever evil was causing her such pain. "Mare?" He spoke gently into her hair, "Mary? What is it?" She continued to sob and he could feel her tears soak through his shirt. He murmured soothing nothings and rocked her gently, letting her cry, his heart breaking a little with every sob.

She felt him rest his cheek against the top of head and he peppered kisses in her hair, but the tears wouldn't stop.

He didn't know how long they sat there, but eventually Mary's sobs quit and when she relaxed fully into his embrace, he tried again. "Mary, love, what happened?"

She muttered something sleepily against his chest but he could feel the vibrations but couldn't for the life of him understand what she was saying.

"Mary, you need to speak up, I don't speak mumble," he kept his tone light and teasing. He cupped her chin in his hand as he moved in to lightly kiss her lips.

"It's Faber." She began shakily, "Jinx told him -" a fresh wave of anguish and betrayal cut off her words.

"What did Jinx tell him?"

Mary took a deep shaky breath. "Jinx told Faber I have letters from my father."

Marshall's face registered shock. "You've been getting letters from your father?"

There was a moment of silence while Mary tried to gather her wits and Marshall struggled to comprehend what he had just learned.

"From after he left?"

Mary nodded. She pulled away from him, turning her body so she could easily see his face. "The first one came when I was sixteen," she blew out a loud stream of air, fighting desperately for some measure of calm.

Marshall shoved the feelings of betrayal to the back of his mind so he could focus on his hurting partner. "Go on," he coaxed her.

"I've received more letters sporadically over the last twenty years." Mary wrapped her arms around her chest; preparing herself for the moment he realized she was a liar and a fraud and walked away. She should have told him. She should have told him six months ago, when their friendship had started to become something infinitely more precious.

He noticed her features harden as if she were bracing for some sort of impact. He drew her back into his arms and rubbed his hand up and down her back as he kissed her on the temple.

"Tell me what you need," he whispered into her ear. "I only ask that you tell me everything so that I can help you. It doesn't matter that you hadn't told me yet, what matters is that you're telling me now."

Swiping angrily at a fresh wave of tears that trickled down her cheeks Mary nodded. "They never had return addresses or any hint about how to find him." She shrugged halfheartedly, "I know I should have turned them in, but they wouldn't help the FBI and-" her voice cut out. The letters were all she had of her father. The thought of losing them was unbearable.

Marshall nodded in silent understanding as he pulled his handkerchief from his breast pocket and offered it to her.

Mary took the handkerchief and twisted it between her fingers, "They're all I have."

Marshall put a hand over her heart, "You also have what's in here," he moved to place his hand on her temple, "and here."

She rewarded his efforts with a watery smile. It was true that her memories of her father would last no matter what happened to the letters, but those letters were as much a part of her as her blonde hair; they defined her even more than her badge and gun. They were concrete evidence, tangible reminders, that her memories of a father who loved her were real. A touchstone she could return to when she needed reassurance that she was special and loved.

Marshall hugged her one last time before turning towards the door. "Come on," he said softly, "I'm taking you home."

The car ride passed in silence. Marshall kept Mary in his peripheral vision for the sole purpose of making sure she wasn't going to jump out of the car at her first opportunity. He clenched his teeth at the onslaught of guilt that overtook him at that thought. He should know her better than that by now. She's done with running from him. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The ride from the office to her home had been the longest of Mary's life. She was certain that Marshall was signing her up for suicide watch even as he drove her home, but she couldn't find it in her to be mad at him for it. If ever there was a moment she thought ending it all might be a possibility, it was now. They arrived and they made their way to her front door.

She climbed out of the car slowly. It was too soon, she hadn't had time to brace herself against the wave of emotions that threatened to collapse her entire world beneath a single wave. Somehow, the letters had become her safety net, the only thing apart from Marshall and WITSEC that she could always rely on. And now they were the trap that could, with one false step, snatch away her career and the only relationship that had ever meant anything.

If James Shannon had stepped into her path at that moment, Mary wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes. At some point, this had to end; death was the surest way she knew to end it.  
She made it to the threshold of her front door, but no further.

Marshall saw her tense up the moment before she began to crumple. He caught her on the descent and sat with her; his back to the door and her in his lap. This time, he was prepared to simply let Mary cry. He'd been expecting another breakdown. There had been the first one, which was about the initial shock and anger, and then this one. This one was more about facing the reality of these letters and the events that might unfold because of them.

He knew she wasn't worried about her job. She wasn't even worried about her family. Marshall knew her better than anyone did and he knew she was on the fence about her father. She didn't know whether to be angry with him or happy that he was alive. These letters seemed to have been keeping her in some sort of limbo; not allowing her to choose on which side of the fence she wanted to be.  
They sat there for an indeterminable amount of time before he felt her draw in a shaky breath. He loosened his grip and she began to disentangle herself from him. Standing up with her, he grabbed her wrist as she turned to go to her room. She went limp in his arms as he gave her a reassuring kiss.

Their lips parted and Marshall held her face in his hands. Looking deep into Mary's eyes, he tried to convey the message that he wasn't going anywhere; no matter what.


	2. Act I, Scene 2

**Here is the long-awaited part two of When in Doubt! We hope you like it!**

**-GPP**

**Scene 2**

Mary unlocked the front door with fingers that still trembled. Marshall's hand on the small of her back kept her upright. She knew what she needed to do. She just couldn't do it with him watching. It was too easy to fall to pieces with his sweet kisses to glue her back together.

"Wait here?" She asked; lifting her pain filled eyes to his face.

Marshall nodded. His eyes held the promise of forever and for a moment Mary let herself sink into his gaze before drawing a deep breath and walking away.

She went straight to her bedroom, but did not immediately open the closet and pull out the letters. Instead, she stood just inside the doorway and simply focused on breathing in and out and on not falling apart. She couldn't believe it had come to this.

There was a small possibility that these letters could help find her father. It was a terrifying and exhilarating thought all at once. The thought of seeing James Shannon after so many years was enough to set butterflies to fluttering in her stomach. _Would he still be her Daddy after so many years? Would he even know her if he saw her? Would she know him? And then, there was the question she was almost too afraid to ask; did he miss her at all?_

Somehow, despite everything, she believed he did miss her. The letters were her proof. Slowly, reverently, Mary moved to the closet where the old striped cookie tin full of paper hid and pulled it out of hiding. It felt surprisingly light in her hands. It contained so much of her heart and soul, so many regrets and broken hopes, it should have been impossible to carry on her own.

Marshall's eyes followed Mary into her room until she closed the door. He heard her rustling about as he made his way to the couch.

He wondered why Mary hadn't told him about the letters. Marshall supposed that it was because she thought that he'd make her turn them over to the FBI. The stab of pain that came with that thought vanished when he realized that she probably hadn't even told Jinx or Brandi about them until recently.

Marshall still felt a lot of residual hatred towards Mary's father. James Shannon had caused his daughter more pain than anyone, especially a child, should ever have to bear. He wondered what she had been like as a child before her father's disappearance. _What did she aspire to be? What hobbies did she have? Was she a good student? Did she have a lot of friends?_

A tear rolled down Marshall's cheek as he began to realize exactly how much of her childhood had been stripped from her. He selfishly wondered where Mary would be in life if her father had been present. More than likely, James Shannon was in the program. The irony was not lost on Marshall as he pictured young Mary and Brandi entering the Witness Protection Program with him. Where would she have ended up?

Marshall had always thought that her career choice in law enforcement (more specifically the Fugitive Task Force), was a subconscious attempt to find her long lost flesh and blood. Had James been around, Mary might have chosen a different career path; one that didn't involve Marshall.

Marshall was startled from his thoughts when Mary's bedroom door opened. He looked up and his heart broke as he took in the sight of her.

She leaned heavily on the door frame while clutching a box to her chest as if her very life depended on it. Her eyes were bloodshot, puffy, and sunken into the pale skin of her face. Her shoulders sagged and she looked like she was barely able to carry her own weight. His Mary, who normally stood strong and proud against the world was reduced to this beaten, broken, shell of a woman.

"They're not in any kind of order," Mary said, extending the box out for him to take.

Marshall extended his long fingers into the pile of letters; hesitating before making contact. His eyes met hers as he silently asked permission to read one.

Mary nodded; sucking in a noisy, bracing breath through her nose.

He picked one that seemed more worn than the others. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he opened the envelope and took a shaky breath of his own.

Mary's eyes stayed glued to his face. She knew this letter by heart.

Marshall's eyes danced across the letter; taking it all in. The letter was written hurriedly with the occasional misspelling and, if Marshall had any doubts of his theory about what happened to James Shannon, they were gone with this letter. It was obviously the first one. His heart clenched for Mary at his goodbye: "A million kisses, the sun and the moon,"

Mary could tell when he'd reached the farewell his eyes softened and her throat closed with tears.  
Marshall finished reading and gently put the letter back into the envelope before reaching over to embrace her. Wrapping his arms around her shaking frame, he whispered soothing nothings in her ear and ran his fingers through her hair.

_Oh Daddy, why? Why couldn't I come with you? _The age-old question floated free from the box in her mind she'd shoved it into years ago. She leaned into Marshall's chest. His shirt was already damp with her tears; she didn't think he even noticed the new ones.

Marshall moved to sit on the floor and leaned against the couch. He pulled Mary into his lap so he could hold her while he read.

Mary's tears ran dry after a few minutes. She was exhausted. She let her head relax against his chest and her eyes fall shut. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, lulled by the steady thrum of Marshall's heart, the front door opened.

Jinx entered the living room as if she owned the house, not bothering to call out a greeting or even wait to make sure she wasn't intruding. She flounced through the living room, so busy looking for the box she remembered leaving behind that she almost tripped over the marshals on the floor.  
Mary's entire body tensed. Shoulders hunching up to her ears as if to shield her from her mother's unwelcome presence.

Jinx finally saw them, and the letters strewn about in front of them "Mary!" she gasped, "What do you think you're doing? You can't show those to him," she pointed an accusing finger at Marshall.

Mary forced her exhausted limbs to move. Slowly, deliberately she rose to her full height and came to stand inches form Jinx. Only then did she speak. "Marshall Mann is the only person I trust in the entire world. He is the only person who would never betray me. Now get out of my house before he throws you out."

Jinx's mouth fell open, "When have I ever betrayed you?"

"Oh please!" Anger gave Mary energy and she spun away from her mother to pace the room.  
Marshall who had risen to his feet the instant he felt Mary tense, chose this moment to interject, "The moment you opened your legs to Mike Faber and told him about these!" he gestured to the letters littering the floor.

Jinx opened her mouth to protest her innocence. "Mary – I... I would never."

"What the fuck did you think you were doing when you told Mike Faber about my letters?" Mary demanded.

Jinx didn't know which accusation to respond to first, so she responded to neither. Her lower lip began to quiver, a sure sign of an impending temper tantrum. "Mike Faber is a wonderful man," she said, tears quivering along her lash line, "what I do with him is my business. If you loved me like a daughter should you would be happy for me!"

Mary went still for a moment, her back to her mother, her shoulders tight. Years of working alongside her helped Marshall see the movement coming half a second before it happened. Mary's body tensed and then she whirled around and flung herself, claws out towards her mother.

Marshall was between them in an instant. Mary collided with his chest, so blinded by anger she laid several blows on him before she realized whose arms held her still. With gentle hands on her shoulders, Marshall pushed Mary back from his chest, "pick up the letters and go into your room, I'll be in, in a minute."

The fight drained out of her, Mary did exactly what she was told. She stooped down and gathered the letters, never once looking at Jinx.

He stood tall and strong as he watched Mary retreat into her room to wait for him. Keeping his back to Jinx, he turned his head slowly to her. "You need to leave," his voice dripped with venom and his features cloudy with anger.

Jinx stammered but he simply cut her off, "If I even hear so much as a hint of you speaking to Mary or anyone else for that matter, regarding these letters, I will personally see to it that you will never read them again."

The tears that had been hovering in Jinx's eyes spilled down her cheeks. "Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?' she sputtered angrily.

Marshall turned so he was fully facing the woman in front of him. "Often times I've wondered how a sweet and wonderful woman like Mary came from the likes of someone like you. You're a selfish, drunken leech, and I won't have you attaching yourself to Mary anymore." Marshall towered over her; his expression dark and unfeeling, "You will leave this house now before I make some calls and some friends of mine have to remove you themselves."

Jinx straightened to her full height and glared up at Marshall hatefully. "You think she loves you?" she asked, a note of scorn in her voice, "This, right here, what you're doing to me? This is what she does to the people that she 'loves'." With that, Jinx swept out of the house.

Marshall didn't allow himself to relax until he heard her tires screech out of the driveway. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned to join Mary in her room.

She was curled up on her bed, in the fetal position, the box of letters clutched to her chest, fast asleep.

Marshall's heart broke for her yet again, as he got in bed beside her and pulled a blanket over them. Even in sleep, Mary sank back into him, the grip on the box of letters loosening. He rested his hand on her abdomen and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

"I love you," he whispered into her neck as he let sleep overtake him.


	3. Act II, Scene 1

**And onto Act 2! The plot thickens as our heroes make life-altering decisions and certain characters meet other certain characters!**

A couple of weeks passed from the time Mary turned her letters over to the FBI and she heard nothing. Faber had personally made a trip to Albuquerque to retrieve the letters. The pompous ass-hat had practically done a 'happy dance' as he tore the precious letters from her hands. She had gotten her hopes up that the letters might actually be as important as Faber and the FBI seemed to think and that they would find something soon. Mary still didn't know if she actually wanted to see her father but she figured she was at least due for some answers. However, two weeks of silence were wearing her down.

Marshall had sensed her growing agitation; especially over the past few days. Their lovemaking had increased in frequency and, although Marshall wasn't complaining about it, he knew that she was just trying to keep her mind off the recent events.

He took a deep breath and broached the subject one evening over their second beer. "They're going to find him; at some point they have to. It's just a matter of time." He waited, gauging Mary's reaction.

When she neither spoke nor ran he continued. "We could find him first; get you the answers you need before Faber and the FBI get their talons into him."

Mary stared down her bottle as if it were the answer to all her questions. With a sigh, she chugged what was left and leveled her head with Marshall's. "I never wanted you to get involved in all this," she mumbled.

"Why?"

Mary was silent for a moment. She wanted to choose her words wisely. There was no room for interpretation in this scenario and she didn't want to chance that he'd misunderstand. "I didn't want you to run." It was impossible to make her eyes meet his during her admission. She didn't have to look at his face to know that it had a look of surprise on it.

"You thought that I would run," Marshall had a hard time wrapping his mind around the concept of ever leaving her side, "what made you think that I would ever run from you?"

Mary finally found the strength to bring her gaze up from her empty bottle. "You almost did that one time," her voice grew more intense as she continued, "right before you—" her voice cracked.

"Before I…"

"Before you got shot," the tears returned with the memory of her partner struggling to breathe as the radiator hose kept him alive.

Marshall ran a hand through his hair. "You're forgetting the most important part of that day," he moved to kneel by her side and draped his hands around her waist as he looked her directly in the eyes, "I stayed, no, I lived," he leaned up to kiss her on the forehead, "for you."

Mary's eyes closed as his lips made contact with her brow. She pursed her lips together as he looked into her eyes and bit her lip as she nodded. "Let's do it," she said quietly and then with more confidence, "let's look for him."

She sank into the embrace Marshall offered her and she hugged him back as if he would disappear if she let him go.

FBI Special Agent Robert O'Connor met Mike Faber at the airport. He wouldn't usually condescend to pick anyone up at the airport, not even his own mother. In fact, the one time his socialite mother had deigned to travel from her comfortable penthouse on Park to "the sticks" to visit her son, he'd sent his aide to pick her up; two hours late and carrying a sign with her name spelt 'O'Conner'.

But unlike his mother, Mike Faber had something FBI Special Agent Robert O'Connor wanted; badly. Badly enough that he wasted forty-two minutes in traffic and another seventeen standing in a crowd to meet the first class passenger off the flight.

He knew which of the half dozen men in suits was Mike Faber well before the shorter, older, agent stopped in front of him with his hand extended. There was a look about him that just screamed, FBI – or arrogant sonofabitch, which really was the same thing.

"Special Agent O'Connor?"

Agent O'Connor shook Faber's hand firmly, "Welcome to New Jersey."

He waited until they had retrieved Faber's luggage, loaded it in the back of his black Escalade, and navigated onto the I-95 S before he asked about the letters.

"They're in my carry on." Faber answered, leaning his head back against the dark grey leather of the passenger seat. "Pretty sappy stuff; useless if you ask me."

Robert ground his teeth slightly. He'd been on the Shannon case for two years now, and here came an old man out of Denver who'd been hanging on to a wealth of information that Robert had only dreamed of for over two weeks; using them as leverage to get him out of a write up for misappropriation of FBI funds. Rumor had it that good old Faber had taken money from a sting and used it to fund a winter holiday with his latest sex kitten.

"The director doesn't agree."

Faber gave O'Connor a look that was halfway between 'duh' and 'go fuck yourself'. "Well I'm not here for the produce."

It was hard not to tailgate the truck in front of him as he fought to keep his temper in check. "Our analyst is meeting us at the hotel. I hope you weren't counting on getting your eight hours of beauty sleep."

Robert took the right at Gouverneur St. sharper and faster than necessary, almost chuckling to himself when Faber slammed forcibly into the door. A few moments later and the Escalade was snuggled between a Toyota and a BMW in the Comfort Suite's front parking lot.

O'Connor preferred to work outside the FBI main offices whenever possible. It made it harder for his superiors to borrow his men for other jobs if they were off site. And the food was ten times better. Also, it was harder for agents to excuse themselves when they were living at their headquarters.

The FBI analyst and a handful of O'Connor's team were already set up in one of the hotel's conference rooms. Six computers whirred softly while two printers pumped out sheets of data on James Shannon, of which an aide was steadily sorting into folders. The analyst sat in front of three computer monitors, back to the east corner, splitting her attention between the information scrolling across her screens, and the bustle of the room before her.

Robert led Agent Faber directly to her, ignoring everyone else in the room. "Eleanor Prince, this is Special Agent Mike Faber from Denver."

"The one with the letters," the look Eleanor gave Faber was not friendly.

"Nice to meet you, Eleanor," Faber oozed his trademark charm and extended a hand to the brown haired woman who had yet to rise.

She looked at his hand as if it might bite her, "Call me Agent Prince," she said coolly, turning back to her computer in clear dismissal.

Faber raised both eyebrows and stepped back. He was half turned away from her when Eleanor spoke again. "Oh, don't forget to leave the letters when you go."

The next day, Mary and Marshall awoke with renewed vigor. They were in the car en route to the office when Marshall spoke. "You think we should tell Stan?"

Mary considered this several seconds past the moment where the silence between them became uncomfortable.

Marshall drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

When she finally spoke, the words were uncertain, "When we know something?"

"It's your call but I feel like he'd be on our side."

Mary nodded.

"Is that a yes?" Marshall gave her a sideways grin, "I only saw a slight nod in my peripheral vision. Talk to me, Mare."

She sighed, "I don't know. I know he will support us either way... but the FBI and the Director are already halfway up his ass about hiring me with James as a father. I can't destroy his career too."

"I think we should at least tell him what we're doing," Marshall suggested, "and he can be involved to whatever capacity he deems comfortable."

Mary nodded and then remembered that Marshall was driving and therefore couldn't see her. "Alright."

Marshall rested a hand on her leg and absently rubbed his thumb on her thigh, "Ok, we tell Stan."

"One condition for this whole adventure that we're about to embark upon," he squeezed her leg to get her attention.

She shifted in her seat so she could face him full on.

"You can't decide for me whether it's too much for me to handle," he continued, "I'm in this for the long haul, Mare, I want to see it through so don't try to push me away when we're getting into the thick of things."

She didn't respond right away, she couldn't with the lump of emotion clogging her throat. She wanted to push him away now; before she dragged his career down into the mud with her own... and Stan along with them from what it sounded like.

"I love you, Mary, and no matter what, I'm not going anywhere."

She knew he would never leave her. Not of his own free will. But it was at times like this she wanted to shove him so hard he had no choice but to step back.

"Don't even try, Mare," he grinned as he realized what she was thinking.

"No point," she said with a wry smile, "You'd just bounce back like that ridiculous silly putty you're always carrying about." She rested one hand over his. He would never leave her, and she would fight her flight instincts every step of the way.

He grabbed the hand resting in his lap and squeezed it. The rest of the car ride was silent.


	4. Act II, Scene 2

Stan was already there when the partners walked into the office; his door open and the sweet smell of percolating coffee wafting through the air.

"You made the good stuff." Mary practically ran to the coffee maker to pour herself a cup.

"Good morning, Inspectors," he greeted them with his usual morning cheer. Stan had sensed the tension between his inspectors over the past couple weeks. Today, it seemed as is the weight they carried on their shoulders was significantly lighter. "How is everything," he cast a knowing glance towards his senior inspector.

Mary poured two cups of coffee, passing one to Marshall before turning to look at Stan. Marshall rested a hand on her shoulder to give her the strength she needed to ask Stan for help. "Can we?" She gestured with her coffee mug towards his office.

"Sure," he held his arm out as an indication that she should lead the way.

Marshall stayed silent as he followed Mary into Stan's office; it was her father, so she should be the one to ask for help.

Mary took a chair in Stan's office and then thought better of it, rising and pacing the room until Marshall once again came to Stan behind her, giving her something to lean on.

"What's on your mind, Mary?" Stan sat behind his desk and turned to face her.

"I want to find my father," Mary dove right off the deep end.

"Way to be blunt there, Mary," Marshall smirked behind her.

She elbowed him in the stomach, but some of the anxiety was gone.

Marshall subconsciously rested a hand on her hip.

Mary locked her fingers with his, holding on to the support he offered as tightly as she could while she waited for Stan's response.

Stan resisted the urge to raise his eyebrow as he observed the behavior of his Inspectors. "How do you propose you're going to accomplish that?" Stan leaned forward on his elbows.

Mary let out the breath she'd been holding, "The FBI think they can find him based on a few old letters, but I know more about him than they ever will." She shrugged, "I think it's time."

"You deserve answers, I'll grant you that," Stan stood up and began pacing.

"I just thought you should know."

"Sit down, Inspectors."

Exchanging confused glances the pair took seats before Stan's desk.

"I'm going to tell you something that isn't to leave this office," Stan looked them both in the eyes, "You know about WITSEC policy; how we're not to discuss any of our previous cases, right?"

Mary's entire body tensed as she nodded her understanding. If any organization knew how to keep its secrets, it was WITSEC.

"You are not to interrupt me, no matter what I say. I don't care if you have objections, I don't care if you feel you have something important to say; you will not interrupt me until I am finished because I'm only going to say this once."

Mary reached for Marshall's hand, meeting it halfway between them. "Ok," She said at half volume.

Stan took a deep breath as he began his story.

"It was my first witness transport that dealt with the Witness Protection Program. I was recruited up a lot like you were, Mary. The Inspectors assigned to the case saw potential in me and offered me a position in WITSEC. The assignment was to transport a prisoner who had pertinent information on a bank robbery that resulted in the deaths of five law enforcement officials and ten civilians," he paused as Mary's breath hitched.

After a few seconds, he continued. "We brought him to St. Louis where he was able to live by the rules for quite some time; or so we thought. We caught him sending letters to his family back home and we were forced to transfer him to Miami. I was the marshal on that transport; me and Robbie," Stan adopted a nostalgic look as he was swept up in the memories of his earlier days.

"I asked him why he would risk his security like that," Stan stumbled a bit before finishing, "He told me that it was his little girl. His little girl was his entire world." Stan paused to allow Mary to take in all of this new information. He looked to Marshall for assurance that he should continue. A nod from the senior Marshal pushed him forward.

"James Shannon wanted to protect you from that life, Mary. He was ashamed of how he let you down and couldn't bring you to see the things he had done," Stan rose and moved to kneel in front of her, "your father was a noble, albeit misguided, man. He felt he was protecting you. That's why you weren't brought into the program; and I'm deeply sorry that I had to keep this from you."

With that, Stan rose to his feet and left the office; leaving his Marshals to absorb all the information that he had just thrown their way.

Mary sat in her chair catatonically. She didn't acknowledge Marshall as he moved to crouch down in front of her. "Mare," he waved a hand in front of her face, "you in there?" Deep down, he was worried; it was rare for him to see her like this.

The last time had involved five rapid-fire shots of Bacardi 151, a small cactus and a very confused llama. A few minutes passed before she acknowledged his presence. She blinked and clarity was restored to her eyes; instantly they met his as silent tears welled up within them.

Marshall moved to embrace her. "Come on, let's get out of here," he held her by the elbow as he helped her to her feet and out of the office, "let's get some pie."

The partners sat in the closest diner they could find; in a booth that was the farthest away from everything. Mary ordered chocolate pie with extra whipped cream and glared threateningly at the waitress. They waited until the waitress brought their order before they began to speak. Rather, Marshall waited for Mary to speak.

Mary shook her head, unable to force her brain around the story Stan had told. "I-" She trailed off for a moment, at a loss for words. "I can't believe... all this time." She let her head fall forward against the table with a bang. "He knew."

Marshall reached across the table to hold her hand.

She squeezed it, but didn't raise her head. "How could he know and not tell me?"

"Mare," he said gently, "You know the policy."

"Fuck policy," her head came up with a snap." this isn't some witness he fucked or her boyfriend he beat up... this is my dad!"

"Mare, that's one of the burdens of this job, we can't discuss these things, and it would have compromised James' security."

Mary groaned. "I know; I just… I can't believe he knew all this time and I had no idea."

"I'm shocked too, love," he squeezed her hand with one hand and held out a forkful of peach cobbler to her with the other, "eat your pie, pie makes everything better."

Mary chased the peach cobbler with an enormous bite of chocolate, whipped cream heaven; but for once even the double dose of pie didn't help.


	5. Act II, Scene 3

**Ok, sorry this is late! Act 2, Scene 3 of When in Doubt is here! When we last left our heroes, pie was being consumed in light of some useful and long-awaited information! Did the pie help? Read and review!**

**-GPP**

Back at the office, Mary was silent as Stan emerged from his office. She watched him go out of the corner of her eye and felt a pang of guilt. Stan was the closest thing she had to a father figure, and yet she could not bring herself to be grateful for the information he had shared.

Marshall shot him an apologetic look as he hung his head and ducked back to his desk and began typing furiously into his keyboard. This whole case was breaking is heart; the quicker he could help her get it resolved, the quicker she could get the closure she needed.

Mary busied her hands with paperwork, but her mind stayed stubbornly fixed on Stan's story. She dismissed a traitorous thought that Stan might be making at least part of the story up. He was Stan; he wouldn't do that.

He also typed a quick email to Stan apologizing on Mary's behalf and telling him that she was indeed grateful; or at least, she would be in the future.

In a moment of weakness, he also typed an email to Mary containing only an emoticon heart.

Half an hour after returning to the office Mary couldn't take it anymore. She shot Marshall a look that told him to stay at his desk and slipped into Stan's office without knocking. She shut the door behind her and closed the blinds.

Marshall strained to hear what was going on behind the door, but to no avail. He resigned himself to waiting until she came back out.

Stan jumped as the door to his office slammed.

"I know," Mary said, holding up a hand to stop Stan from speaking, "you already risked your job, mine and Marshall's by telling me what you did... I know that." She paced for a moment before turning to face him head on.

Stan opted to remain silent as his Inspector vented.

"The FBI has everything they need to track him down now, and if he's run out on a second family and dodged the program then I hope they find him..." her voice broke but she pressed on, "but I need to find him first."

"Why's that, Mary?"

She glared incredulously at him. She couldn't believe he needed to ask her that. They were in the business of making people disappear, never to be seen again. Often at the behest of the Feds... how could he of all people not understand why she needed to see James first, before the FBI stole him away from her again?

Stan sighed. He knew when he was defeated. "As his former Inspector, I may be able to pull some strings; seeing as the FBI is out to compromise his identity, I could say it's for the safety of the witness."

Mary gave him a half smile. "Thank you, Stan." Not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind she hurried out of the office.

Stan rubbed the pads of his fingers against his throbbing temples. He knew he'd done right by his job; he wasn't so sure he'd done right by his Inspector. Though she didn't act like it, Mary was very fragile. Her father's disappearance had always been a sore spot for her.

Frankly, he'd been amazed at how quickly Marshall was able to earn her trust and respect. He was 100% sure that Marshall was the first man she'd trusted since her father walked out.

Stan had never lied to her. Everything he had told Marshall and Mary was true. One had to have a death wish to even consider lying to Mary. He knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't have a damn good reason as to why he told a secured witness's family of his whereabouts, but he knew with equal certainty that James's life would be in danger should the FBI find him. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before picking up the phone and calling his superior.

It's just another witness who's gotten in trouble; nothing more.

"Hello, Sir, Chief Inspector McQueen here," Stan put on his authoritative voice, "There's something you and I need to discuss."

Three weeks and four days later, the marshals found themselves with no promising leads. Mary's hope, which has bloomed bright when Stan promised to do his best, had withered and died. The only bright spot was that the FBI didn't seem to be having any more luck than they were.  
"Perhaps we're going about this all wrong," Marshall threw his pen down on the desk in a rare moment of anxiety.

Mary sighed. They'd tried all the tricks she knew and some Marshall knew that she didn't. Without a single promising lead, she was ready to throw in the towel. It was only the threat that Faber might succeed where she'd failed that drove her onwards.

"He must have been relocated; you said Lauren told Jinx that he'd disappeared?"

"Without his family? Again?"

"Again, he's more than likely ashamed of his past. We need to dig into his recent affairs, which means contacting Scott and Lauren."

Mary groaned, "Can you do it?"

"I can do it, but they don't know me and may feel more at ease with my presence rather than yours."

She knew she was a coward; however, the idea of questioning James Shannon's second family about his whereabouts made her feel sick. She groaned again, "OK. I have a few vacation days left. I guess I'm going to Florida."

"There are worse places you could be going," Marshall grinned over at her, "Just think... you, me, palm trees, a hammock..." his eyes clouded over as his imagination ran wild.

"You'll come?" She hated the naked, needy hope in her voice.

"Do you really have to ask?" Marshall stood up to walk over to her.

"I thought we had established by now that I know nothing about anything," she said, glaring at her computer.

"And I thought we'd established that I was going to be with you every step of the way..." Marshall was now standing behind her.

Mary swivelled her chair so she could look up at him. "You might have to remind me of that now and then," she said in a small voice.

Marshall braced his arms against her armrests and leaned in close. "Anytime. I will always be right here," his voice got low and he leaned in to kiss her on the forehead then the nose and finally the lips.

Mary returned the kiss, one hand rising up to run through his soft hair before she pulled back. "If we're going on vacation, we'd better get some work done."

Marshall pouted as he turned to go back to his desk. "Spoil sport," he said before launching a spitball at her.

She chuckled, and resisted the urge to send one flying back in his direction. Instead, she focused on getting through the paperwork littering her desk as quickly as possible.

An hour passed as the partners continued their work. Suddenly, Marshall became very excited.  
"Mare! Mare get over here!"

"If this is another user review for the phantom key stroker, I will end you."

"No, it's better! I found him," Marshall whispered in awe to his screen.

"What?" Mary was on her feet and behind his desk in a matter of seconds.

"Surveillance at the Miami train depot places him in Miami, FL the day before yesterday."  
"But..." She stared at his screen, "How did you find it?"

His eyes glinted with accomplishment as he looked to his partner, "I have my ways; an old college buddy owed me a favor."

She squeezed his shoulder, but couldn't tear her eyes from the screen. "How soon can we be in Florida?"

"I'll make the travel arrangements and we can hopefully be there by morning," Marshall wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her into his lap. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder as they watched the screen.

Mary leaned back against him, eyes still glued to the fuzzy surveillance photo on Marshall's monitor. She'd found him. After all these years to see him there, still wearing the same leather bomber jacket; even in the ridiculously hot Miami station. His hair was thinner but it was him.

"I love you; you know that right, Mare?"

She nodded silently, but she wasn't really listening. Her head was twirling in time to a one-word song, _Daddy_.


	6. Act III, Scene 1

**And we continue our adventure in Act III of Green Penguin Productions' "When in Doubt!" As always, comments are welcome/needed/appreciated!**

**-GPP**

"Ugh, I hate tropical climates!" Mary complained as the partners stood at baggage claim. "It makes my hair really frizzy!" She patted at her hair to try to ease the frizz.

Marshall grinned, but wisely let Mary vent uninterrupted.

"Stupid blonde hair," she muttered. "Why couldn't I have been a brunette?" she whined to Marshall, "Stupid, alcoholic, gambling, bank robbing gene pool..."

"I like your hair." Marshall said softly, he refrained from wrapping his fingers in it; only because Mary hated public displays of affection.

Mary hastily pulled her hair into a messy bun to minimize the frizz. "Thanks, Marshall," she sighed, "that makes one of us."

Marshall's fingers itched to slip the elastic free, but Mary still had her gun and he rather liked having four working limbs. Instead, he shouldered both of their bags and followed her out of the airport into the warm Miami afternoon.

"Also, what the hell is up with all these palm trees? They're ugly as sin!" she rambled as she exited the airport and hailed a taxi.

Marshall scanned the area for threats; a habit that helped him do his job in Albuquerque, but one that made him look paranoid everywhere else. He noted a line of yellow taxis, a parking attendant collecting baggage carts and a family of tourists in appallingly bright t-shirts but nothing suspicious. He opened the taxi door for Mary and climbed in beside her.

"I swear, I feel like I'm in a modern day episode of the Golden Girls," she muttered then nudged Marshall with her elbow, "you can be Dorothy; she was the freakishly tall one, right?"

Marshall wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close in a half hug. He knew what she was doing. "You don't have to talk to him today," he said softly against her hair, "we can just see if he's here and then you can decide what to do." He pressed a gentle kiss against her hair and then loosened his hold.

"You don't deserve to be stuck with me, Marshall," she closed her eyes at the feel of his lips on her head. She remained snuggled against him.

Marshall pressed a second kiss on her forehead, "I love you Mary. Nothing that happens here is going to change that."

"I love you too, Marshall," she leaned her head on his shoulder for the rest of the cab ride.

They checked into their hotel and showered off the travel grime before hitting the car rental desk. Marshall let Mary pick the car; it wasn't worth fighting over.

Mary had forcibly straightened her hair and tossed it triumphantly over her shoulder as she passed by Marshall.

"Let's go, Doofus," she called out to him.

"Yes darling," he called while pocketing the keys to their rental Camaro. They found the car easily in the underground parking and climbed in.

The partners spent the day looking in all the obvious places: bars, casinos, car sales lots, etc. They turned up with no leads and both realized they would have to contact James' other family if nothing fell into their lap by the next day. Even Marshall was getting cranky by the time four o'clock rolled around.

"Want to grab dinner and try again tomorrow?" he asked.

Mary nodded her agreement. "Pizza and take it back to the hotel? Or would you prefer Chinese tonight?"

Marshall smiled mysteriously, "I had something a little nicer in mind. You brought that dress right?"

"I own a dress?"

Marshall rolled his eyes, "The sexy black one I specifically suggested you bring."

"Which sexy black one? I have two... Technically, one would be considered lingerie, but it is, in fact, a dress..."

Marshall was very glad they were stopped at a red light. "Whichever one, both sounds great," he shot her a lust filled look, "but we are going to be seen in public, so probably the second."

"So, the see through one... got it."

Even knowing she was purposefully messing with him didn't stop Marshall's possessive side from growling at the thought. "If you wear that one I can pretty much guarantee you aren't getting dinner until much later."

An hour later, Mary was putting on the final additions to her outfit. The dress was satin and clung to her curves. The straps were wide halter style that wrapped around the back of her neck. The satin bunched at the bodice and at the waistline before it stopped at the knee. She wore a pair of strappy heels and had her hair in loose curls cascading down her back.

Marshall straightened his black bow tie. His hair was smoothed back with a little gel and his Silver Star cuff links shone in the hotel lights.

When Mary finally stepped out of the bathroom, Marshall's mouth dropped open and he almost regretted the decision to eat out. She looked incredible.

"Took you long enough," he teased, offering her his arm.

The restaurant Marshall had chosen, The Capital Grille, was a ten-minute drive from their hotel. He let Mary drive, because she looked too good for him to focus on driving with her in the passenger seat.

Mary grinned to herself as she drove. She'd done well in her wardrobe choice. "So where are we going?" she snuck a smug grin in his direction.

Marshall shook his head, and forced his eyes not to focus on how her cleavage looked in that dress.

"Not a chance."

"How am I supposed to drive us there if I don't know where I'm going?"

The GPS on the dash suddenly piped up, "In one hundred meters, turn left."

Mary banged her head on the steering wheel, "Of course. You brought the GPS. Freakin' boy scout," she muttered.

Marshall placed one hand on her thigh, rubbing his thumb absently against the satin skirt of her dress. "Don't knock the GPS. You're the one who always refuses to ask directions."

"That's right; I'm the man in this relationship."

Marshall deliberately pulled her skirt up enough so he could trace a circle on the skin just above her knee. "The sexy man in the dress," he said with a smirk.

"Doofus..."

"You love me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

They pulled into the restaurant parking lot and as soon as Mary pulled the car into a spot, Marshall came around and opened her door; once again holding out his arm for her to grab. He knew Mary outwardly hated chivalrous gestures, but he couldn't help himself.

Marshall gave his name to the hostess and they were immediately shown to a secluded booth in the back corner of the posh restaurant. He ordered a bottle of wine for them, casting a glance at Mary to make sure she was all right with him making the decision.

Mary nodded but otherwise remained quiet.

Flipping through the menu with one hand, Marshall reached across the table and took Mary's right hand in his.

She absently entwined her fingers with his as she perused her own menu.

The waitress returned with their wine and poured them each a glass. Marshall looked politely at her as she took their orders, but did not let go of Mary's hand. When the waitress was gone, he fixed his eyes on Mary's face, tracing her lifeline with the edge of his thumbnail.

Mary kept her eyes to her water glass. Meeting Marshall's eyes would mean telling him what was bothering her. She didn't want to talk about it; mostly because she wasn't even sure what was wrong in the first place.

"Did you know that the word Steak comes from the Old Saxon word Steik which means meat on a stick?"

Mary gave him a hint of a smile as a reward for trying to distract her.

"Or that sirloin steak so impressed King Henry the VIII that he knighted it, Sir Loin." A smile danced at Marshall's lips, but he could tell Mary was still lost in her own thoughts.

"Wait, what?" Mary shook her head and looked up in disbelief, "Really?"

_Gotcha_! Marshall thought, allowing his smile to blossom.

"Or it comes from the French word surlonge which means over the loin. But I like the first one better."

"You're a jackass, you know that?"

"Well, you know I'm hung like one," he deadpanned.

Mary's mouth dropped open. She could think of nothing to say in response to that. Instead, she snorted with laughter as the words sunk into her overactive mind.

Marshall took a sip of wine to cover the smug smirk on his face. He hadn't fixed anything, he knew that, but at least he'd made her laugh.

Mary dropped her eyes back to her water glass. She was still trying to figure out how to phrase what was going on inside her head. Luckily, Marshall merely seemed interested in distracting her.

Noticing his partner's gaze returning to the tabletop, Marshall knew he had to step up his game if he was going to keep her mind off James Shannon until tomorrow. Grateful for the dim lighting of the restaurant and the booth that blocked them from view of the other patrons, Marshall carefully toed off his left shoe beneath the table. Keeping his face blank, and Mary's hand in his, he slid one sock covered foot across the table, rubbing against Mary's calf.

Mary jumped a little at the unexpected contact; but soon recovered and sent a mischievous glance in his direction. She slid around to his side of the circular booth and placed a soft kiss underneath his earlobe.

Marshall turned his head and kissed her softly on the lips. He moved their entwined hands off the table and into Mary's lap, twisting a little in his seat so he could cup her cheek with one hand.

The kiss deepened. Mary's tongue flicked across his lips and he opened to her while the hand that had been on her face dropped to cup her breast through the satin of her dress. Her nipples were hard with arousal and he pinched one lightly, reveling in the little gasp she breathed into his mouth.

He lowered his mouth to her neck, suckling at the tender skin right beneath her jaw. He released her breast and slid his hand down her abdomen, along her thigh, stopping at the edge of her skirt.

"Ahem," their server cleared her throat, "8 oz Sirloin," she slid the dinner plate in front of Marshall," and duck," the second plate slid across the table, stopping in front of Mary. "Can I get you anything else?"

Marshall recovered the power of speech first, "No, thank you." He said, smiling politely despite the burning in his cheeks.

The duo spent the remainder of their dinner glancing awkwardly at each other while trying to suppress their embarrassed giggles.

The food was delicious, but Marshall barely noticed. He was absorbed in her smile, her laugh and the feel of her body leaning slightly against his as they ate. He didn't try to go for more than that at the dinner table. They'd had enough embarrassment for one evening. And, besides, his goal of distracting Mary out of her slump had been achieved. The rest would wait until they were safely in the rental car or back in their hotel room.


	7. Act III, Scene 2

**Part 7 of 16 is here! Changes are afoot for our heroes as they discover more secrets! Stay tuned and as always reviews are candy!**

**-GPP**

FBI Special Agent Mike Faber wasn't afraid of hard work, so long as it came with a guaranteed payoff and the occasional hot intern. Finding James Shannon with only a box full of letters and twenty five year old crates of typed FBI case files was one of the hardest jobs he had ever taken on; and ten times harder than any other for which he'd volunteered. However, the payoff would be enormous.

These were the thoughts running through his head as he tossed another stack of loosely bound legal paper into the 'useless' bin and leaned back to look at the large black and white clock on the conference room wall. Three-thirty AM. He ran a hand through his already tangled hair and rose to refill his coffee cup.

The coffee had baked dry in the bottom of the pot leaving a brown-black film but nothing drinkable. Faber looked around for an intern to blame, but the only other person in the room was Eleanor Prince. Grumbling to himself, Faber took the pot across the hall to the bathroom, rinsed and filled it, and then returned to the conference room to set a new pot to brewing. Tired and frustrated as he was, he didn't return to work while the coffee maker did its work he stood, back against the wall and watched Eleanor Prince sort through a mountain of paper with all the efficiency of a super computer.

He wondered briefly, what she was like in the sack before he reminded himself that he was in a relationship and that fucking Eleanor Prince was not the cure for the sexual exhaustion caused by Jinx's eagerness. An excited chirp from his computer broke Faber from this disturbing line of thought. He took time to pour the small amount of brewed coffee into his mug and doctor it with three packets of sweetener before walking over to check the alert.

The chirp had come from the computer that was running their fifth search for recent offenders matching James' physical description. It came from Del Rio, Texas. A blond man in his sixties, roughly matching James' weight and height had been arrested for driving in a vehicle presumed stolen. Faber pressed print without bothering to read the rest. It could be a dead end, but this was the first plausible lead they'd found in weeks.

"Find something?" Eleanor asked, not looking up from the information in front of her.

"A man matching James' description was arrested in Texas three days ago."

Faber was suddenly wide-awake. He moved to the large map hung on the back wall of the room. On it, they'd marked all known or suspected locations James Shannon had stayed, lived or worked in the last 30 years. It was depressing empty.

Smiling to himself, Faber picked up a red marker and circled the dot labeled Del Rio.

Eleanor Prince was an exceptionally intelligent woman. Early in her FBI career, she had been a rigid rule follower. However, it hadn't taken long to figure out the advantages of bending certain rules and breaking others; but this was beyond anything she had ever attempted before.

This one could get her fired.

Eleanor Prince was a cautious woman; which was why she kept every file encrypted and carried a disposable blackberry with a California number. She used this for emergencies only.

Above all, Eleanor Prince was a loyal person. Which is why in the two minutes it took Agent Faber to fill the coffee pot she made an untraceable copy of the alert before erasing it and restarting the search from scratch. It wouldn't buy much time, but if she knew Stan McQueen, he wouldn't need much time.

It was barely five AM when Marshall's cell phone rang waking him from a deep sleep. He reached for it and answered on the second ring, hoping he could avoid waking Mary so few hours after they finally found sleep the night before.

"Marshall," he said sharply, slipping out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants with one hand.

"Marshall, it's Stan," the voice on the other line seemed tired.

"What happened?" Marshall was suddenly wide-awake.

"They found James," he said in a low voice.

"Damn it!" Marshall swore loudly and then checked over his shoulder to make sure Mary was still sleeping. "Where?"

"I've made arrangements for you and Mary to fly to his location, be at the airport in 30 minutes," with that, Stan disconnected the call.

"Thanks, Stan," Marshall said to the dial tone. He tossed the phone on the bed and pulled a t-shirt on over his bare chest.

Mary stirred in her sleep. She thought she'd heard Marshall talking to someone but maybe she'd been dreaming.

"Mary?" Marshall leaned over her and touched her shoulder gently, "Mare, you gotta get up."

Mary pushed her head under her pillow and grumbled, "Too tired, you wore me out."

"We found him."

Mary's head shot up and almost collided with Marshall's.

"Come on, we are flying out in thirty minutes. I'll pack your stuff."

"Where?" she rubbed her eyes and was already getting clothes on.

"Stan didn't say," Marshall said, throwing their discarded clothes into his bag; they could sort the mess out back in Albuquerque, right now time was of the essence.

"Typical."

Twenty-two minutes later, they arrived at Miami Airport.

"I suppose flashing our badges would speed up this process?" Mary looked up at Marshall; anxiety evident in her eyes.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and directed her towards the Alaska Air counter. He released her when they got to the line of passengers waiting to check in so he could look suitably intimidating when he flipped open his badge and forced his way to the front of the line.

"I love it when you act tough," she purred into his ear as he released her.

"U.S. Marshals," he said to the woman at the counter.

The woman looked bored; as if federal officials came through all the time and used their badges to expedite the check-in process. "Can I help you?"

"Official business," Marshall said in his most commanding voice. "Two tickets under Marshall Miller."

"Let me see," she typed agonizingly slow and Marshall recognized the telltale signs of annoyance coming from his partner.

Mary slammed her badge onto the counter.

"Listen, I've had it up to here," she raised her hand to Marshall's brow line for emphasis, "with your irritatingly bad attitude. We're Federal Marshals on Federal Marshal Business. So take your goddamn fingers and use them for something other than pretending to work or we'll arrest you for obstruction."

Marshall rocked back on his heels, a contented smile on his face as the woman suddenly increased the speed of her fingers on the keyboard. Mary always did know how to scare people into obedience. In seconds, the woman was printing their boarding passes and directing them to gate three for a flight set to leave in ten minutes.

"That felt good to get out of my system," she looped her arm through his, "I suppose your 'be the river' thing really does work."

"More like be the tsunami," he said with a laugh.

"What can I say, I'm hardcore."

According to the flight board the plan would take them to Austin, with a thirty minute layover in Savannah. He checked his email to see if Stan had forwarded him any more than that, but so far no word from the chief on their final destination.

**What is in store for the dynamic duo as they head into Del Rio! Stay tuned!**


	8. Act III, Scene 3

**The chase is ending and our heroes are nearing the finish line! Will it go smoothly? Of course not! Stay tuned!**

**-GPP**

They disembarked from the plane a little after noon, fully awake and still completely in the dark about where they were headed next. They were not at all prepared for the two Marshal escorts that met them as they exited the terminal.

Mary sized them up the minute she noticed them. They wore standard Government Issue black suits and had earpieces in their ears. The stood stoically with their hands clasped in front of them as they discreetly scoured the area for threats. She leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Marshall.

"These aren't marshals; they're the men in black."

He shook his head, allowing a tiny smile, but maintaining his professional cool. The men were certainly not WITSEC, but any back up was probably a good thing if the FBI was hot on James' tail. He guided Mary into the back seat of the standard issue black SUV with one hand on the small of her back. The two marshals who would escort them to Del Rio climbed in the front.

The ride passed in awkward silence as the marshal/secret service hybrids weren't much for conversation; and Mary and Marshall were not in the mood for mindless chatter.

Mary became lost in her own thoughts. She couldn't shake off the weird feelings she had about seeing her father again. How much had he aged? Why was he in Texas? Why did he think it was a good idea to send her those letters? All of these questions and more floated about her head aimlessly as the car continued in what seemed to be a southwestern direction. The sun was high and she could feel it through the windows; despite the air conditioning. She sighed and pulled her hair up into a ponytail to keep her neck cool and free of sweat.

Marshall sensed his partner's inner turmoil, but knew that now was not the time to grill her on it; not with two strangers in the front seat. Instead, he discreetly took one of her hands in his and squeezed it. He wished he could wrap his arms around her and be her strength, but with the other U.S. marshals around it was too risky. Stan had risked a lot for them, and Marshall would do everything he could to ensure he didn't fan the fires that could burn Stan McQueen's career to ash.

They entered Del Rio via US-90W going 75 mph but soon traffic and traffic lights slowed their progress. Marshall straightened in his seat and scanned the city as it slid past his window. If James Shannon was here, he shouldn't be too hard to find. The SUV took a left at Veterans' Blvd and a right on Garfield Street a few hundred meters later. Marshall filed the street names away in his mind. As soon as they had checked in with the local PD, he planned to rent a vehicle so he and Mary could continue on their own.

Two turns later and the SUV pulled up in front of a one-story building badly in need of window washing and a new paint job. The faded letters across the roofline identified it as the City of Del Rio Police Department. Marshall shot a look at Mary, and cringed at the disgust he saw on her face.

"What the hell is this?" she looked at the grungy building.

"The local PD has information on the man you're tracking." The Marshal driving the SUV explained as if talking to a toddler.

Marshall held his breath and waited for the explosion.

"So where's the local police station?" Mary was surprisingly calm.

"Right here," now the marshal sounded annoyed.

"You're kidding."

Marshall squeezed her hand in a silent plea for her to shut up before they alienated all of the local law enforcement. "Are they expecting us?" he asked the driver.

"Marshall, I don't think they have telephones," she staged a whisper to him.

He bit back a bark of laughter and tightened his grip on her hand to the point he knew it had to hurt.

Mary shot back a grin that told him she understood what he was trying to tell her. She mouthed the words 'you love me' to him when he smiled back at her.

The inside of the station was not much nicer than the outside, but at least it was clean. A single policewoman sat behind a desk, talking into her phone in a low tone. She did not look up when they entered the building, she merely held up a finger to indicate she was too busy for them and kept on talking.

"Again, with the irritations," Mary mumbled but somehow managed to keep her temper in check as the group waited for her to finish.

Three minutes later than what was polite, the woman hung up the phone and looked up at the group in front of her for the first time. "You must be the marshals," she said as if they were just another minor irritant in a long day of hassles," Detective Burns is waiting for you in his office." She pointed down the one hallway that ended in a wooden door marked 'Det. Burns'.

"Thank you." Marshall, ever the gentleman, dipped his head to her before leading the way to the Detective's office.

Mary stayed close to him; her anxiety growing with every step. She kept her shoulder touching his as a silent weight to keep her anchored to the task at hand.

Detective Burns was a large man; over six feet tall and easily two hundred and fifty pounds. He had bushy black hair and a full handle bar mustache. He looked exactly how cartoonists wished every southern sheriff would; right down to the worn cowboy hat sitting on his desk and his shiny black cowboy boots.

He shook each of their hands and then gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. "Inspector Sheppard, Inspector Miller? Please sit," turning to the others, "thank you gentlemen, we can take it from here."

His grip was firm and strong, and Mary noted how her hand disappeared when he took it in hers. _It's Yosemite Sam's taller brother_ she thought as she gave him a once over. She would let her impressions of him flourish once she heard what he had to say.

"Jim Griffin," Burns watched their faces for a moment before continuing, "He's new to these parts. Moved maybe a year ago. He's been working at Marco Motors for six months or so, pretty damn good salesman if Marco can be believed." The man had a warm voice and seemed to smile as he spoke.

"Anyway, Officer Martinez arrested Jim last week over on Felipe Ave for driving what we thought was a stolen vehicle. We held him overnight, but it turned out the car was from the dealership, so we let him go Wednesday morning."

He shrugged, "I don't know what the Marshal Service wants with a used car salesman from Del Rio, but you can probably find him at the dealership."

Marshall nodded, "Do you have a home address?" He noted Mary's grip tightening on the arms of the chair and willed her to remain calm and silent.

"Somewhere," Burns pulled open his desk drawer and rummaged through a stack of loose paper. After what seemed like an awfully long time he pulled out a piece of yellow legal paper, "Here it is. 212 Graham St."

Mary's breath hitched when she heard the address. She was so close to seeing him again and it frustrated her that she didn't even know if she wanted to or not. She took a silent breath in and let it out as she and Marshall rose to shake Detective Burns' hand.

The US marshals who had driven them from the airport were waiting for them in the front of the police station. Marshall gave vague answers to their inquiries and asked to be dropped at the nearest car rental office. "I'm sure you both have more important things to be doing than following two marshals from Albuquerque all day," he said with a polite smile.

Half an hour later, he and Mary were on their own in a silver Ford Escort. It was a tight fit for Marshall's long frame but it was also one of the most discreet cars available so he made due with the lack of headroom.

Mary was worryingly quiet through the whole process and as soon as they were alone in the car, Marshall turned and took both of her hands in his. "Talk to me, Mare. What's going on inside that beautiful brain?"

"I'm not sure if I want to see him," she kept her head down and played with her medallion that hung on her neck, "it's been so long and I've always thought that he wouldn't want to see me."

Marshall's heart constricted and it was a moment before he trusted himself to speak.

"He loves you, Mary. You remember what Stan said, and what James wrote in his letters. He loves you."

"I'd always thought that if he wanted to see me, then he'd tell me where he was."

Marshall reached for her and pulled her against his chest, it was a little awkward in the front seat of the Escort, but he needed the contact.

"It's up to you, Mare. However, the FBI will find him. So we need to act now, if we're going to." He kissed the top of her head. "No matter what happens, you have me."

"Let's see how I feel when we reach his house," she hadn't realized she'd been crying and wiped her tears on the sleeve of her jacket before pulling away.

"Alright," Marshall took a moment to program the address Detective Burns had given them into his GPS.

"Hey, Marshall?"

"Yeah, Mare?"

"I love you," she leaned across once more to kiss him on the cheek, "thank you."

"I love you too, Mare; no matter what," He balanced the GPS on the dashboard and brought to car to life.

**They have an address! What do you think is in store for our favorite marshals? As always, read and review!**


	9. Act III, Scene 4

**We're one step closer to Pa!Shannon! What will our heroes find? Read on to find out!**

Graham Street was on the southeast edge of town, with houses and trailers on one side and open desert on the other. Marshall wondered if that was exactly why James had chosen the street and this town. The Mexican border was not far off and this far from the city center the man would have a decent head start on law enforcement if he decided to make a break for it.

Mary grew increasingly uncomfortable as they got closer to the address. This was the kind of neighborhood that she'd been shot in and she didn't want anything to happen to Marshall. She kept one hand on her holster as Marshall continued driving.

212 Graham Street was a one-story house built in the late sixties. The wood paneling looks as if it hadn't been painted in at least a decade. The white paint was grayed and peeling to reveal a once-sunny yellow underneath. There was a brown Ford truck in the drive. Marshall drove right past it, finally parking three blocks away on McLymont Street.

He turned to Mary and waited. He could see her eyes searching the area in habit.

Mary stared blankly ahead. She fought to control her breathing as she stared at his house. This was the moment she'd dreamed about; though it was under different circumstances. Her hand absently reached over the gearshift to hold his hand and she calmed a little as she felt his thumb rubbing light circles on her knuckles.

"I don't know if I can do this, Marshall," her breathing sped up as she realized what she was expected to do.

Marshall weighed his words carefully before speaking. He knew this had to be her decision, but he also knew that what Mary needed was closure. And the only way she was going to get that was to confront her fear head on and see him one more time. "Eleanor Roosevelt said you should do one thing a day that scares you," he said softly, keeping his grip on her hand.

Mary's gaze steeled over as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. She began walking in the direction of James' house.

"That's my brave girl," Marshall said while following her down the dusty road. He resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her. She needed her strength for herself right now.

She continued walking until she was one block away. She ducked behind a fence as she saw him step out of his house. "Daddy," she whispered. Her legs refused to move; despite her desire to run to him.

Marshall stood close enough she could lean on him if she needed the support and watched the man who had caused her so much pain and heart ache. Marshall was not a violent man, but the sight of James Shannon brought a rush of emotion and he had a strong desire to tackle the older man to the ground and beat him to a pulp.

James stood in his front yard smoking a cigarette. He looked around the neighborhood as he put the trash bag he was holding into the can that sat next to his mailbox. He reached into his pocket, put a letter inside the box, and finished his cigarette.

Mary's legs finally registered her brain telling her to move. James had moved to get into his car as she stepped out from behind the fence. She saw him glance in her direction just as he started the engine. His face was the last thing she saw before darkness engulfed her.

The explosion blew the Ford to pieces before Marshall had a chance to react. The force of the blast knocked both marshals off their feet and sent shards of white hot metal rocketing through the air in all directions. Out of pure instinct, Marshall threw his body over Mary's seconds before the driver side door smashed through the fence that had concealed them, landing an inch from Marshall's head.

"Mare?" Marshall ignored a burning pain in his left thigh, worried only for Mary. "Mare, wake up!"

There was a gash across her forehead and the blood oozing from it dribbled down her face. She was breathing, but her eyes remained closed. He didn't dare move her.

Heart in his throat, Marshall flipped open his phone and dialed 911.

Val Verde Regional Medical Center's emergency room was mercifully quiet when the ambulances pulled up to the automatic double doors. The paramedics wheeled Mary out of the first ambulance and straight into a curtained area of the emergency room. Marshall was in the back of the second ambulance, forced to lie on a stretcher, despite his protests that he was fine.

A nurse in sea foam green scrubs pointed to the back corner of the room. "Bed six is ready for him," she said in a no nonsense voice.

"Where is my partner?" Marshall asked her, his voice tinged with panic.

"Bed two, the doctor is on his way," she said in a softer tone, "now you need to relax and let us do our jobs, ok?"

Only the restraints the paramedics had strapped across his chest and legs to keep him down in the ambulance kept Marshall from leaping up and strangling the nurse.

Upon noticing the ferocity in his gaze, the woman uncapped a syringe and injected it into the flesh of his shoulder. In seconds, the world faded and Marshall slept.

_Mary was surrounded by fog. There was nothing around her; no sound, nothing she could touch, and all she could see was the fog. It was dimly lit and she couldn't feel a surface beneath her feet. She took a few shaky steps forward and she was plunged into a blinding light. She closed her eyes to the harsh onslaught to her pupils and felt herself falling._

_Suddenly it stopped and she was able to look down below her feet. Marshall was strapped to a gurney and he had panic in his eyes._

_"I'm right here!" she called out and smiled as he looked around confusedly for a moment before continuing his interrogation on the nurse attending to him. Taking a few steps closer to him, she saw there was blood matted to his hands and clothing._

_A jolt of electricity surged through her and her body was hurled backwards through the light and back into the fog. Another shock to her brought her out of the fog and into pitch darkness. She heard the steady beeping of the heart monitor and felt the pricks of an IV being pushed into her arm._

She remained in darkness for an indeterminable amount of time before she opened her eyes.

"What happened?" she tried to speak but the tube down her throat made it difficult. She tried again, "Marshall..." was all she managed before she fell into unconsciousness once more.

Consciousness came with pain. Marshall groaned. There was so much pain. His left leg was on fire, as if someone was cauterizing his femur without anesthesia. He tried to jerk away from the pain, but strong leather straps held him in place. There was a blindingly white light above his head and it made his eyes water.

"How are we feeling?" a sweet female voice asked from somewhere on his left.

"Mary?" he tried to turn.

"Your partner hit a rough patch, but she's going to be just fine." The nurse placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Where is she?" Once again, Marshall fought against the restraints. "I need to see her."

"What you need is rest," the nurse replied, not unkindly, "you lost quite a bit of blood."

When he did not calm, the nurse relented. "How about we make a deal? You agree to stay in that bed and rest, and I'll see that you and that partner of yours are in the same room by the end of the hour. Deal?"

It wasn't what Marshall wanted, but it was better than nothing. He nodded. "Deal."

Seconds later, the morphine drip the nurse had hung while she spoke kicked in and he slipped back into warm, painless sleep.

**Oh no! They found him but not in time! How will Mary react? How will Marshall get her through this? When will they get a moment to themselves? All this and more in later chapters!**


	10. Act III, Scene 5

**Title: When in Doubt: Act III, Scene 5**

**Author: The GPP**

**Rating: NC-17 (Patience is rewarded... we promise!)**

**Tagline: When in Doubt... See a Doctor!**

**Author Notes: With only 6 more chapters to go, where will we find out heroes after the end of Act 3?**

Marshall was released from hospital care forty-eight hours later. Though the nurse had followed through on her promise, he'd barely had a chance to speak to Mary since before the blast. After his release he moved from the bed beside her to the chair by her bed, otherwise nothing much changed.

Mary had woken with a fog in her brain. She knew something traumatic had happened, but she didn't know what or why.

"Marshall," she reached out to hold his hand, "where are we?"

Marshall took her hand and rubbed his thumb along the back of it. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head and tears began to well up in her eyes as Marshall moved to embrace her. The tears graduated to full sobs as he rocked her back and forth.

"What happened to us?" she cried into his shirt as he held her.

Marshall tightened his hold on her, his mind searching for the right words. He had to tell her; not telling her wasn't even an option. But the moment he told her, her world would collapse. The thought of causing her that much pain was more than he could bear.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"I was sitting in a car with you," her forehead scrunched up as she tried to recall the events that got her into the hospital. Her eyes widened a little as she remembered where they were. "Why are we in Texas? Bumfuck Texas, to be precise."

Marshall pulled back so he could look her in the eye. He took both her hands in his and, taking a deep breath for courage began to speak.

"We found your father. He was living here, in Del Rio, Texas. We came here so you could see him, but..." he hesitated for a moment.

"But what, Marshall?" she pleaded with him, "Just tell me."

"We were too late." He squeezed her hands, "Your father is dead. Mare, I'm so sorry.

Mary grew silent. She had thought that was a dream; no, not a dream, a nightmare. Her lower lip began to quiver and she grabbed the pillow from behind her. She began to beat it with every ounce of strength she had." No! No, it's can't be true!" she was sobbing as she hit the pillow, "You're lying!"

"I'm sorry Mare," Marshall's eyes pleaded with her to trust him. "I wish I were. I wish..."

"What? You wish you could turn back time? Huh? You wish it could be you and not him?" Yells replaced her sobs as she turned on him, "Jesus, Marshall, just give me every fucking cliché you've got!"

He flinched at her angry words, but did not pull back. He was strong and he loved her. If that meant taking all of her bitterness on his shoulders, then he would do it. "There's a reason those have become clichés, Mare. They're all true. You know that."

She began to look around frantically, "I need to get out of here," she began to rip at the IVs in her arm and the monitors attached to her chest as she moved to get out of the bed.

Marshall grabbed her by the upper arms, his iron grip stopping her movement. "Mary. Stop. You almost died three days ago."

She stared at him with all the fury of a hurricane, "Let. Me. Go." her voice was liquid steel.

"Never." He pulled her against his chest and held her fast.

She pushed at his chest and slapped his cheek, "I said, LET ME GO!"

"No," He tightened his hold and placed a kiss on her hair, "I know you're mad. I know you hurt, but I will never leave you."

"What do you know, huh? You think you know everything, but you don't know this! It's not true! He's here Marshall, he's here in this hospital and I have to find him!"

A tear escaped Marshall's eye and fell down his face, landing in her hair. "He's gone, Mary. I'm sorry, my love."

"Fuck you, you don't know shit. Now, let me go." She pushed against him one last time and rolled over to face away from him. Mary did her best to slow her breathing as she pretended to sleep.

Marshall sank back into his chair, exhausted and heart broken. His Mary hated him; at least in this moment, and there was nothing he could do to ease her pain. Silent tears chased each other down his cheeks and he did nothing to stop them as he watched her breathe.

Marshall stayed at Mary's side without leaving for more than the time it took to relieve himself until the next morning when a nurse came for him.

"Doctor Tam has a few minutes if you'd like to get those stitches out this morning," the woman said with a smile.

Casting a worried glance at his sleeping partner Marshall rose to his feet. "Alright, thank you."

He bent and squeezed Mary's shoulder. She did not respond, but he hadn't expected her to. "I'll be back soon, Mare."

Mary was wide-awake as he said this and waited a couple minutes before ripping out her IV once again. Her legs were shaky and her feet cold as she set them on the tile floor. She paid it no mind; she was focused on her goal.

She gave her legs a few seconds to adjust before creeping out of her room. Mary scanned the hallway before making a left turn towards the nearest nurse. She found the nurses' station after a few turns and walked up to it.

"Excuse me," she asked in her most authoritative voice, "I'm looking for a James Griffin? He was brought in a couple of days ago?"

The nurse looked confused as she searched the hospital database, "I'm sorry, I don't have a record of any patient by that name."

"You've got to be kidding me, can't you look harder?" She huffed a frustrated sigh.

The nurse took in Mary's hospital gown and the blood seeping out of her hand where the IV used to be. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Listen here, Little Miss Nursey Pants, I just need to find Mr. Griffin and then I'll be back in bed like a nice obedient patient. So hurry up and find him before I get cranky!"

The nurse tapped a few keys on the computer, "Well, I'm sorry to say that the only J. Griffin we have in this hospital is down in the morgue."

Mary's knees grew weak; Marshall had been right. Her hands shook and her knees wobbled as she took in this information. Her father was dead. The memory of his face right before the explosion came flooding back to her. Darkness crowded at the edge of her vision and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

Marshall returned to Mary's room as soon as the Doctor finished removing his stitches and lecturing him on the importance of proper wound care. He felt a wave of panic when he saw that her bed was empty. The panic did not abate when an orderly entered the room seconds later wheeling Mary on a gurney.

"What happened?"

"She fainted," The orderly said as he transferred Mary's limp form back to her bed and fastened her wrists in padded restraints.

Marshall settled into the chair beside her and took Mary's hand in his. He used his free hand to send Stan a quick text message updating the chief on their status and then sank back in the chair, once again waiting for Mary. It wasn't long before his eyes fell shut and he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was an hour later when Mary opened her eyes again. Waves of memories flooded her and she fought to hold back her tears. Her father was dead… and she was the last to see him alive. He had looked right at her before the explosion. That face would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Mary had always missed her daddy; but knowing that she would certainly never, ever see him again brought on fresh waves of pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she made no move to stop them as they dotted the blanket she held in her hands. For the first time, she looked over and saw Marshall sleeping in the chair next to her bed.

Marshall.

The one man who'd never left her. He had every right to, but he remained by her side through thick and thin. She loved him more than life itself and she'd treated him like the enemy. Her breath hitched as she noticed the stains on his cheeks from tears; tears she had caused.

She had hurt him; in her blind rage, she had hurt the man she loved. She looked over at his sleeping form and began to weep silently. She was sure she'd ruined everything. There was nothing more to do other than watch him sleep. She would revel in this moment for however long it lasted; before he woke up and her world came crashing down.

Her fingers ached to trace along the welt on his cheek where she'd slapped him. Why hadn't he left her side? Why did he continue to stay with her when she was nothing but awful to him? She drew her knees up to her chest and began to rock back and forth. In a matter of a week, she'd lost her father and done everything she could to drive off her lover.

Marshall was the first man she could call 'lover'; she hadn't been able to call any other man that. Others had merely been playthings to her. Marshall was different. And she'd ruined it. Her heart broke as she thought about the pain she'd caused him and her sobs grew stronger by the minute.

Mary's sobbing was the first thing Marshall registered when he awoke. He snapped upright, so quickly his head swam and he was forced to stay seated for a few seconds until he regained his bearings. As soon as the room stopped spinning, he rose from his seat and reached for Mary, "Mare? Sweetheart, I'm here." He didn't pull her to him, though his heart was screaming its need to hold her, instead he gently clasped her shoulders, giving her a clear invitation and the opportunity to slip away.

"I'm sorry..." she sobbed, "I'm so sorry, Marshall."

No longer able to wait for her to come to him, Marshall sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her against his chest. He stroked her soft blond hair and pressed his lips against her temple. "Mary, my love, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but I'm here. I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. Ever."

"You keep saying that and I almost believe it," she forced her eyes to meet his, "but I also know myself and one day I'll go too far."

"You said I might have to remind you," he said with a watery smile. "No matter what happens; as long as I have breath and fight in me, I will always be here."

"You promise?" Her voice was childlike and insecure.

"I promise," he sealed the promise with a feather light kiss to her lips.

Mary pulled the lapels of his shirt closer to deepen the kiss. Relief flooded through her as she felt the honesty in his words.


	11. Act IV, Scene 1

**Title: When in Doubt Act IV, Scene 1**

**Author: The GPP**

**Rating: NC-17 (keep your pants on… or not… it's coming! teehee… Thing 1 is apparently in middle school)**

**Tagline: When in Doubt… Use Protection!**

**Summary: Mary and Marshall have returned from Texas! How will Mary break the news to her mother and sister? How will Jinx and Brandi react? When will we get to see M/M have sex? You all have been so patient! Thank you for sticking with us!**

The pair returned on the first flight to Albuquerque once Mary had been released. Neither partner was wishing to spend a single second longer in Del Rio than necessary. It was a quiet flight, Mary was still recovering from the physical and emotional wounds, but in a way, Marshall thought they had never been closer.

Mary called Jinx when they arrived in Albuquerque. "Mom? There's something I need to tell you." Jinx responded with the expected concern, but Mary refused to tell her anything more over the phone. "Can you come for dinner tonight?"

"Should I bring anything? Should I bring Mike by? I'm sure he'd love to see you."

Mary tightened both hands into fists at the mention of Faber. "No, just you. Seven, ok?"

"Ok, Sweet Pea, I'll see you at seven."

She called Brandi next. Her sister agreed and Mary's heart twisted with guilt at the excitement in Brandi's tone, but she managed to keep the tears from her voice until after she hung up.

"Do you want me be to be there with you?" Marshall asked when she had finished her calls. There was a twinge of hope in his voice; he was uncertain as to how Mary would be with her mother and sister. They were never very careful with his fragile lover.

"I think I need to tell them myself," she said softly and uncertainly. "They need me to be strong, and that's harder when I have you to lean on," she admitted, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You sure?"

Mary shook her head; she wasn't sure about anything today.

"How about I stay until they arrive?" he rested a hand on her shoulder as he stood in front of her. He lowered his head to meet her eyes.

Mary leaned against him and wrapped both arms around his waist. "How about you stay forever and we can just hide in my bedroom until it all goes away?"

"Mmm, I'd like that but then, you'd never get your closure."

She giggled, albeit weakly. "I know."

Marshall nipped at her earlobe before moving to her ear and whispering, "I love you."

She pulled back and looked him square in the eyes. "I love you too. And I can do this, but I need you to promise me one thing."

"I'd promise you the universe if that's what you asked for," he looked her straight in the eyes.

"A million kisses, the sun and the moon?" she asked in a wistful voice.

"That wasn't my promise to give, but if that's what you want then it's yours."

She half smiled through the tears that were once again clouding her eyes. "No, that was Daddy's promise. I just want you to promise me that when this is all over you'll be here and we can spend an entire weekend locked in my bedroom, hiding from the world."

Marshall's arms snuck their way around her waist and he pulled her to him roughly before capturing her mouth with his. The kiss was intense and full of devotion and promise. He felt her knees start to give out. Marshall maneuvered her backwards to the couch where he laid her down as he continued kissing her. A hand made its way up her ribcage, under her shirt and over her breast as his tongue dueled with hers.

Mary arched up towards him, rubbing herself against his jean-clad leg. Her entire body thrummed with tension. Somewhere in her brain, she knew most of it had nothing to do with the way his fingers tightened against her rock hard nipple, but this was the only release she knew how to achieve in this moment. She fumbled with his belt for a moment before freeing it along with the button of his fly. She slipped her hand beneath his jeans to cup his growing erection and relished the sharp hiss of his breath in her mouth.

Marshall's left hand made its way under her ass to shift her farther up the couch as he kissed his way down her shirtless body. He nipped at her ribcage and groaned when he heard her moans of approval. He smiled against her belly as he blew a raspberry over her navel. Laughing he sat up when she shrieked and dodged her flailing arms.

"Get back up here," Mary commanded, reaching for him with both hands. She wanted to feel him, his weight on top of her, his mouth on hers.

He smiled as he continued to kiss her lips before reluctantly pulling back.

"Now, now, there's time for this later, my love," he stood up and fixed his belt before offering her his hand to help her up, "come on, I'll help you make dinner."

Mary took his hand, but instead of letting him pull her to her feet, she gave a sharp pull and brought him back down onto the couch.

"In a minute. I'm not finished with you yet." she growled, managing to flip so he was beneath her. She pinned him with her legs over his hips and settled her mouth on the sensitive skin behind his ear. "Please Marshall." She whispered against his skin, her voice needy.

Marshall laughed as he fell back onto the couch. He knew what she was doing but felt that it was important to remain focused on the task at hand. Still, a little playing never hurt anyone and perhaps the release of tension it would help her not kill her mother.

He allowed her to continue her assault on his body and he let his hands wander while being careful not to be too rough on the bruises.

In seconds, she had his belt undone again and one hand on his boxers. She could feel his desire, but knew he was holding back because he thought she needed closure more than sex.

"I can't think about it right now," she said, pulling back so he could see her eyes, "I need this. I need you."

He relaxed and she made quick work of the rest of his fly before pushing both his jeans and boxers down to his knees. She had just started on the buttons to her jeans when the doorbell rang. "Jesus!" Mary growled at the ceiling, fumbling on the floor for her shirt.

"Stay there," she commanded, turning to get rid of whoever dared interrupt their moment.

"Yes, ma'am," Marshall saluted her from his position on the couch.

Mary straightened her shirt, and then pulled open the front door. "Mom?" she pitched her voice so it was guaranteed to reach the man lying on her couch. "You're two hours early."

Marshall lay on the couch with a content smile on his face. His ears prickled when the door opened and he heard Mary address her mother. Marshall jumped up from the couch like a gazelle while grabbing his clothing and taking three longs strides into Mary's room.

"Sweet Pea, I just couldn't wait to hear your news!" Jinx moved in closer to embrace her daughter, "Oh, I'm so excited!" Jinx's hand moved to Mary's belly and patted it gently.

Mary ground her teeth, a standard response to Jinx these days. When she realized her mother thought she was pregnant it took all her self-control not to pick Jinx up by her scrawny arm and pitch the woman out into the street. "Brandi is coming at seven, I'll tell you both then." She did not step out of the doorway and her tone signified dismissal.

"Where's Marshall?" Jinx poked her head around looking for the taller marshal.

"He's not coming for dinner." Mary said, moving so she blocked Jinx's access to the house.

Marshall strained his ear against Mary's door; trying to listen to their conversation.

"His truck is outside, though."

"I borrowed it," Mary lied smoothly. No way in hell was she feeding Jinx's delusions about the state of Mary's uterus.

"Oh, well, I suppose I can talk to him later," Jinx put on her pitiful face as she turned to go; "I'll be back at seven, ok?"

"Yeah, great." Mary forced a smile. "See you at seven."

**:-P**


	12. Act IV, Scene 2

Title: When in Doubt Act IV, Scene 2

Author: The GPP

Tagline: When in Doubt… Use Protection!

Summary: You all have been sooo patient! Just a little while longer before your just rewards! Yeah this wasn't awkward at all to co-write…

Once outside, Jinx pulled out her cell phone and dialed Brandi's number. "Brandi, it's Mom, Mary's pregnant!"

Brandi closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the pitch of her mother's tone as much as to the words, "Mom, are you... drinking again?" She asked tentatively.

"No! I felt the baby," Jinx sighed dreamily, "I'm so excited to be a grandmother!"

"Yeeeah," Brandi made a face across the kitchen at Peter to signify that she was talking to a crazy person. "Well that's great. I guess we can celebrate at Mary's tonight. I gotta go, ok?"

She hung up the phone before Jinx had a chance to say anything more. "Oh my God!" She burst into laughter and it was a few moments before she could explain to a very confused Peter.

When they had both finished laughing, Brandi picked up her cell phone and hit speed dial one.

Mary shut the door behind her mother and slid the dead bolt into place.

"Marshall!" She called, "She's gone. You can come out of hiding now."

Marshall stepped out of her room fully dressed. "Well, that was interesting," he smirked. 'Interesting' seemed to be the only word deemed appropriate for any of Jinx's unexpected visits.

She punched him in the arm. "Jackass."

"What did she want?"

"Like you weren't listening at the door."

"She seemed excited about something but I couldn't place it," Marshall stepped closer to her, "come on, tell me," he whined.

Mary buried her face in his chest, "She thinks we're pregnant," she said in a tiny voice.

"I'm going to be a father?" Marshall put on a look of fake joy as braced himself for impact.

Mary did not disappoint, she stepped back far enough to gain a little swinging room and socked him in the arm. "Don't even joke!"

"Aw, come on, mothers always know this sort of thing!" he held his injured arm, "a mother always knows," he grinned.

"Maybe your mother," she said. The ringing of her cell phone broke off any further conversation. "Hello?"

"Mary?" Brandi's voice sounded worried.

"What's up Squish?" Mary rolled her eyes in Marshall's direction.

"I think mom is drinking again." Brandi said, "She just called to tell me you're... pregnant?"

Mary wasn't sure if she should be insulted by the tinge of hope in Brandi's voice. Neither of them wanted Jinx back drinking, but Mary sure as hell didn't want to be pregnant either. "I'm not," she said, "but I don't think she is either."

Marshal perked up to attention at the confused face Mary was making, but then decided to make himself useful and began to make dinner.

"You know Jinx and secrets." Mary laughed a little.

"Yeah," Brandi sighed into the phone. The little spark of hope that Mary's important news might have been happy dissolved into thin air. "Sorry to bug you, see you at seven."

"See you later Squish." Mary clicked the phone shut and followed her partner to the kitchen.

Marshall busied himself; trying to see what she had that he could turn into dinner.

"There's some chicken in the freezer," Mary said, leaning against the wall and watching him work.

"Ok," Marshall reached in to take it out then put it in a pot under some hot water to defrost it. Once the chicken was thawing, he turned back to Mary. "How are you doing?" He reached out to take hold of her hand and squeezed it.

Mary smiled up at him, "Better." She was amazed to find it was true.

Despite all reason, the hilarity of her mother thinking she was pregnant had broken through the cloud of gloom that had surrounded her since learning of her father's death.

Marshall looked into her eyes for the truth. When he saw it, he smiled and kissed her forehead. "So, where were we?"

"I believe you were going to cook dinner for me and my family," Mary's tone was teasing as she ducked around him and headed for the fridge.

"I can't believe I got cock blocked by your mother," he grumbled as he moved about the kitchen once more.

Mary giggled. "A whole weekend. At your place so they can't find us."

"You realize that I will devour you, right?"

Mary smirked as she pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, "I'm counting on it."

He stepped closer to wrap his arms around her waist and backed her against the fridge. The freezer was still slightly ajar when he leaned in to kiss her neck. As she responded to his ministrations, he silently reached up into the icemaker and put an ice cube down her shirt.

Mary screamed as the ice settled in her bra, cold and wet. "Oh, you are so dead!" she fished the remains of the ice cube out of her bra and chucked it at his head.

Marshall shielded himself from the offending ice cube with his arms as he ran in the opposite direction; laughing the entire way.

Mary paused long enough to arm herself with a fistful of ice before sprinting after him. She caught up to him in the hall. With a battle yell like an Amazon woman Mary launched herself at her partner, knocking him to the floor. She pinned him with her legs and shoved her handful of ice down his shirt.

Marshall writhed beneath her as the ice came in contact with his skin. He pulled her closer to prevent her from getting any further and pressed his lips to hers. Not once did he loosen his grip on her waist as they kissed on her hallway floor ice melting between their bodies. It was good to see her laugh and enjoy herself; especially after the events of the past few days.

Reluctantly, Mary pulled back from his kisses. "You promised to cook me dinner," she said.

"I made no such promise," he murmured before pulling her face back down to his.

Mary's eyes took on a mischievous glint as she allowed Marshall to pull her down on top of him again. She kissed his lips and then moved to his neck.

Marshall groaned at the sensations she was creating within him. His fingers pressed harder into the flesh of her hips as she continued her assault on his neck.

She nipped the tender skin above his collarbone, and then soothed the pink skin with her tongue. She unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, her hot mouth following her hands down his chest.

Marshall's fingers slipped beneath her jeans in a desperate attempt to feel more of her. He threw his head back against the wood floor.

Mary took both his wrists in her hands and pulled them away from her body, "Do you trust me?" she asked; half a smile on her face.

"With my life and more," his voice was an exhale of air and his eyes were full of lust.

She guided his hands until they were against the floor above his head. She stopped any protest with her mouth on his.

Marshall groaned as she forcibly removed his hands from the sanctuary of her jeans.

"Stay still," she commanded in a husky voice as she slid down his body, running both hands along his chest.

"Shall I learn to levitate while I'm at it?"

She giggled against his belly. Planting a line of kisses from belly button to belt buckle. Her hands made quick work of his belt and fly, pulling his jeans down so she could wrap one hand around his erection.

"Mary," he breathed.

She tugged impatiently at his dinosaur print boxers. He arched his hips instinctively and she was able to push the fabric down to his knees. She ran one finger along the tip of his penis and then pulled back, breaking all contact.

"Do you want me?" She asked.

"Always," Marshall gulped as he saw the look in her eyes.

She leaned over him and cupped his testicles, rolling them between her fingers. "How badly?"

"You have no idea..."

"Enlighten me," she lowered her head and blew a stream of cold air over him. She was inches away from taking him in her mouth just to hear him scream her name to the rooftop, but she held out.

"You really want to talk right now?" Marshall growled.

"I want to fuck you senseless," she said candidly, "but first I want to make you beg."

Marshall lifted his head to her ear and whispered huskily into it, "Si'l vous plait," he licked her ear lobe before resting his head on the floor once again.

Mary wrapped one long fingered hand around his hardness. The skin was smooth and hot beneath her touch. She wanted him, maybe more than she ever had before.

Enough was enough. Marshall wrapped one arm around her waist and pushed up with the other. He brought himself to sitting position against the wall in one fluid motion; bringing Mary with him so that she was straddling his waist. Pulling her close, he brought his mouth roughly to hers and finally was able to revel in wrapping both arms completely around her waist as he kissed her.

Mary melted against him, the irritation she felt at losing control soon lost in the pleasure of his body pressed against hers. She rocked her jean-clad hips against him. She could feel his abs tightening beneath her hands, fighting for control.

She ran her hands up his chest and pushed his shirt to the floor.

Marshall slid his hands up the back of her shirt and Mary raised both arms to allow him to pull it off. Her bra followed shortly after and then his mouth was on her and, for a moment, it was wet, hot pleasure.

"Oh God, Marshall," she groaned, tilting her hips in a desperate attempt to increase contact. As one, they reached for the buttons of her fly and after a brief awkward scramble both jeans and thong were on the floor with the rest of their clothing.

Mary sank back into Marshall's lap and locked her lips with his.

Marshall brought one hand down between them, fingered her swollen clit, and grinned as she gasped against his mouth. He rubbed and rolled it between her fingers; all the while memorizing what action made her make each of these beautiful sounds.

Mary could feel the beginnings of her orgasm and he wasn't even inside her yet. She planted both hands against the wall for leverage and repositioned herself over his erection. She dropped down, taking him inside her. The sensation of him sliding into her wet center was the most delicious thing she had ever experienced.

Marshall groaned as he slid completely inside her with ease. He pulled her close as they both adjusted to the sensations that this contact brought out in them.

She was wet and so ready, and he was hard. Days of tension and frustration melted into pure pleasure as their hips thrust in tandem. "Marshall!" Mary cried out as her entire body tensed in orgasm.

He finished a heartbeat later as her body convulsed and shuddered around his length and they collapsed in a sated, sweaty heap against her wall.


	13. Act IV, Scene 3

**Title: When in Doubt Act IV, Scene 3****  
****Author:**** The GPP**

**Rating: M**

**Tagline: When in Doubt… Use Protection!****  
****Summary: This is the last part of Act IV! We're getting so sad that it's so close to the end! Thank you so much for sticking with the story!****  
**

"Wow," he breathed into her shoulder, "I need a shower now; that was incredible!"

Mary smiled and kissed his neck. "Use the guest room," she said, leaning back so she could see his face, "if we both use my room we'll never get dinner ready."

Marshall had little strength left and he used the last bit of it to stand and take Mary into his arms. He carried her into her room before leaving to grab the shower.

When Jinx and Brandi arrived ten minutes before seven, Marshall had just left and Mary was just pulling the dinner he had created for her out of the oven. Mary already wished she'd taken him up on his offer to stay, but she knew she would end up letting him tell Jinx and Brandi. She needed to be strong.

Jinx was all smiles as she entered the house. She embraced her oldest daughter for the second time that day and gave her a knowing look.

Brandi was her mother's polar opposite. Everything, from the lack of makeup, to the slight hunch of her shoulders confirmed that she was expecting catastrophic news.

Mary directed them both to the kitchen. She served them each a plate of chicken, salad and rice, hoping to put off the news until after they'd eaten.

"Oh, Mary, I'm so happy for you!" Jinx was still on her high as she accepted the plate offered to her.

"I'm not pregnant," Mary said, jaw tightening.

"Sure you are," Jinx nodded, "what else could it be... wait! Are you getting married?"

"James is dead, ok?" Mary snapped. Immediately she wished she could take it back.

Brandi recoiled as if she'd been struck.

"What?" Jinx's face took on a crestfallen appearance.

"That is what I needed to tell you," Mary continued in a softer tone. "He was killed last week, in Texas." She didn't go into detail.

"This is news?" Jinx looked like a wounded animal, "James has been dead for years; at least to me."

"No mother. He's been dead for six days, nine hours and forty-seven minutes." Mary growled.

"I hope he's rotting in hell," Jinx pushed her food around on her plate.

"Mom!" Brandi finally found her voice. Her eyes were filled with tears as she looked from Mary to Jinx and back again.

"Well what do you want from me?" Jinx threw her fork down and stood up from the table, "He left us, and disappeared; only later we discover that he has a new family!" She began rummaging around the kitchen looking for liquor.

"Sit down!" Mary's command set the glasses in the cupboard to shaking.

Jinx whirled on her but did not obey. She stared at her eldest with a look of hatred and denial, "You have no father, face it! He didn't love us, so why should we care that he is officially dead?"

"No mom, he didn't love you." Mary snarled. She hadn't expected Jinx to take the news well, but she was finding it hard to stomach this complete denial of James.

"Obviously he didn't love you either," she continued her rant, "otherwise he would have taken you with him!"

"And left you alone with his baby Brandi?" Mary raised one eyebrow. "You'd have killed her in a week if I hadn't been there."

"It would have been better if he'd taken the both of you..." she said as she continued her search for liquor.

"Stop it!" Brandi stood so quickly her chair toppled to the floor. "Both of you just stop it!"

"Squish," Mary reached a hand out to her sister, but Brandi slapped it away.

"No." Brandi glared at both of them, tears trickled down her face but she didn't seem to notice. "Dad was a bastard; he left us... all of us; but he was our father," she pointed to Jinx, "and your husband. Now he is dead. Can we not fight for once?"

Jinx grabbed the counter for support as she turned away from her daughters, "I need to get out of here," her voice was strained.

"No." Brandi moved so she was blocking the doorway. "You always run away. Or drink it away."

Mary watched her sister stand up to their mother for the first time in their lives with wide eyes. Who knew Brandi had a backbone?

"Why do you think that's true?" Jinx stared at Brandi, "Because of you!" she pointed to Brandi then to Mary, "And you! And him!"

"No mom. You were an addict long before any of us entered your life." Brandi said, swiping tears off her chin. "We were just the excuse you used so you wouldn't have to realize what a train wreck you are."

Mary had always liked Peter, after hearing Brandi speak she wanted to hug the man. She walked around the island and came to stand beside her sister, close enough to touch but not touching.

Jinx looked as if she'd been struck by lightning. She looked between her two daughters in disbelief that they would turn on her like this. She pointed once again to Mary, "You. This is all your fault. If you hadn't encouraged him sending you those letters, we could have moved on in peace. But this is Mary's World, everyone just does as she asks; no matter the consequences."

"I love you mom," Brandi said, stepping in front of Mary, as if to shield her from Jinx's hateful words, "But you're wrong. None of this is Mary's fault."

At last, Mary found her voice, "Dad sent those letters because he loved us and he wanted us to know it," she said softly, "He loved you mom. I know you think he left you, us, but what choice did he really have? He didn't want to drag you down with him. You should be grateful."

Jinx sighed as she made her way to collapse on the couch in a heap of sobs. She rested her face in her hands as she cried.

Brandi was the first to follow her, but Mary was soon on her heels. The youngest Shannon sat right beside her mother and pulled her into a hug. "He loved us," she whispered, "and we love you."

Mary knelt in front of her mother and took one of her hands in a rare moment of affection. She was the silent support while Brandi was the more verbal of the sisters. Together, the Shannons would make it through this.

Dinner was cold by the time Jinx stopped crying and the women returned to the kitchen. It didn't matter, none of them were hungry.

"Should we have a funeral?" Brandi asked, looking at Jinx.

Jinx could only nod; she didn't trust her voice.

"Do you want me to plan it?" Mary offered, "I don't know a thing about funerals, but..." she shrugged.

Both Shannon daughters watched Jinx, waiting for her to verbalize a decision. Brandi squeezed her mother's hands.

"I'll do it," Jinx's voice was small and quiet.

It was nearly eleven when Mary hugged her family goodbye and watched them drive away. For the first time since Jinx found out about James' letters years earlier, Mary felt like they might all be ok eventually.

She waited only until they pulled out of sight before climbing in her own car. There was no way she was sleeping alone tonight.


	14. Act V, Scene 1

**Title: When in Doubt: Act V, Scene 1****  
****Author:****The GPP****  
****Rating: NC-17 (well not so much anymore…)****  
****Tagline: When in Doubt… Blame the FBI!****  
****Author Notes: We're so sad to see this being wrapped up! Thank you for sticking with us!****  
****Summary: It's time to plan the funeral! What happens when Jinx meets James's second wife? Read on!**

/\\\\/\\\\/\\\\

"James was my husband! We have three children! Of course I'm having a funeral!" Amy Griffin's voice rose to a screech.

"Well, he was my husband first; we have two daughters, so of course, I'm having a funeral as well!" Jinx fought back with an equal amount of ferocity.

"'He was my husband first'" Amy quoted snidely, "What are we, eight years old? He left you; which makes him my husband and you and yours can come or not but we are having the funeral in Miami."

"If I recall correctly, Lauren said he left you too, so I guess that makes you the same as me."

"He was afraid for his life;" Amy countered, "and besides, when he left me he didn't immediately remarry."

"If you want to believe he was afraid for his life, then by all means. If that's what helps you sleep better at night then sure, maybe he was afraid for his life. I'll be damned, however, if you think you're better than me because you were his second choice for a wife."

"At least I don't need to drink myself stupid to sleep."

Jinx snapped and she lunged at the other woman, but Amy was shorter and quicker. She dodged out of the way, snatching the white, porcelain urn off the counter as she did.

"Ha!" She cackled in triumph, holding the urn above her head like a trophy.

Jinx lunged once more and caught her off balance; folding the smaller woman in half like a jackknife.

The urn flew through the air, seeming to hover for a moment before smashing to pieces on the linoleum entryway.

The startled woman behind the counter reached for the phone and dialed 911 as the two fully-grown women tumbled to the floor in a heap. There was no way was she paid enough to deal with this shit.

This is what the police saw when they walked into the funeral home five minutes later. Jinx and Amy rolled about on a white linoleum floor covered in what appeared to be ash, pulling each other's hair and flailing punches that never seemed to find a target.

With some difficulty, they separated them and slapped handcuffs onto each of their wrists and led them out to the squad car. It was a small town so there was only one; both women were pretty sure that this was the most action the local police had seen in a while. With the exception of James' fiery death, of course.

When Mary saw Del Rio PD on her call display, she expected the worst. "Hello?"

"Mary Shannon?" a brisk male voice asked.

"Yes."

"Your mother, Jinx Shannon, has been taken into custody."

"You're kidding," Mary said, though she was sure he was serious. "What did she do?"

Marshall's shoulders tensed when he saw Mary's reaction to whoever was on the other end of the phone line. "What's going on?" he whispered.

Covering the mouthpiece of her phone Mary whispered back, "Jinx was arrested in Del Rio."

Marshall smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand as Mary continued her conversation.

Mary listened to the rest of what the officer had to say and promised to be there as soon as possible to bail her mother out. When she hung up her eyes were sparkling with mirth. "Feel like another trip south?" She asked her partner.

"Always," he moved closer and put his hand on her shoulder.

"We have to bail Jinx out of jail." Mary said, fighting to contain a wave of laughter and failing miserably.

Marshall looked at her as if she'd grown a second head for a moment before deciding to roll with it. He laughed with her.

When she had finished laughing and wiped the tears off her face Mary explained, "Jinx and James' second wife were arrested for public disturbance at the funeral parlor."

It was a solid eleven-hour drive from Albuquerque to Del Rio; the partners did not waste time. Marshall checked in with Stan while Mary threw their go bags in his SUV along with a few bottles of water and some snack food. She added apples at the last minute, remembering what Marshall had told her about their amazing caffeine-like properties.

The Del Rio police station looked worse than Mary remembered. Possibly because it was five AM and they had been driving all night. She climbed out of the SUV, stretched the worst kinks from her lower back and entered the station, Marshall close behind as a silent pillar of support.

They could hear the women fighting before they could see them.

"This is your fault!" Jinx's shrill voice echoed in the halls of the cell.

"Did I push your fist into the officer's face?" Amy asked snidely, staying just far enough back from the bars of her holding cell that Jinx couldn't reach her.

"You sure as hell shoved that other one into the coffin!" She reached a hand through the bars and tried to claw at her.

"I was aiming for you."

"Well you have piss poor aim..." Jinx glared at the other woman.

Marshall stayed behind her and blended into the shadows as Mary came to a stop a few meters from the cells and stared. The women both looked awful. They were smudged with grey grime, probably from wrestling on the floor of a funeral parlor, and hair that stuck up in all directions. Jinx's blouse was ripped and hung off one shoulder. "Jesus, mom!"

"What? She started it!" Jinx pointed in accusation at the other woman who looked equally as disheveled.

Mary stared, nonplussed. She knew her mother well, and while it looked like Amy Griffin could hold her own in a catfight, Mary would bet real money that Jinx had landed the first blow.

Lauren appeared to Mary's left and took in the sight before her, "Mother!" she exclaimed, "Don't you have any sense of decorum?"

Amy glared at her daughter, "Like you should talk, darling. You were the one who visited these... people in the first place." She said 'people' as if it was the vilest insult.

"Lauren," Mary held out a hand to her half sister. It was still eerie looking at the younger woman who looked so much like her, "Nice to see you."

"Hey, Mary," Lauren shook her hand, "Nice to see you again; though I wish it was under better circumstances. So this is the town Daddy disappeared to?"

Mary nodded and flinched inwardly as Lauren's name for him but didn't elaborate. Most of what happened to James had made the local paper, but she didn't want to give away any details. "Shall we leave them to fight this out and go get James?" Mary cringed at her own word choice.

"Also, maybe some breakfast? It was a long flight, oddly enough, and this town doesn't seem like it should have its own airport; much less a working one."

"I'm starving," Mary agreed. "I think the funeral parlor opens at seven. Marshall?" she turned to face her partner.

Marshall, who had remained silent the entire time, stepped out from the shadows and regarded Lauren; he mentally did a threat assessment before nodding in agreement of breakfast. More than likely, he would be helping them reach a suitable conclusion as to what they should do with James' remains. He extended his hand to Lauren. "U.S. Marshal Marshall Mann at your service," he smiled as he took in the acute family resemblance. The half-sisters could have been fully related; he'd never have known otherwise if Mary hadn't told him.

"Marshal Marshall?" Lauren quirked an eyebrow; a facial expression Marshall wasn't unfamiliar with.

"It has its advantages and disadvantages," he sent a charming yet polite smile to Lauren and mentally chuckled as he noticed her cheeks tinged with pink.

Mary looked between the two with amusement.

"You're leaving me here?" Amy's voice was furious as she interrupted the moment between the trio.

Lauren turned to her mother, "Don't worry, I'll be back."

Jinx piped up as well, "And you, Mary? You'd leave your own mother in jail?"

Mary shot a smile at Marshall before schooling her face into a suitably 'guilt ridden daughter' expression, "We'll be back before lunch time. You'll live."

After a delicious, and surprisingly comfortable, breakfast Lauren, Mary and Marshall drove to the funeral parlor. The attendant was just opening for the morning when they entered and it was a few minutes before he was able to assist them. Mary killed time looking around the open area where she assumed the catfight had taken place. It took every ounce of her self-control not to fall on the floor and laugh herself sick.

She wasn't sure if it was the stress or the lack of sleep but there was nothing about the situation she didn't find completely hilarious.

When the attendant finally emerged, he carried two identical silver urns. "Here you are." He said holding one out to each woman. He almost seemed afraid that they would suddenly rush him like linebackers taking down a quarterback.

Mary took one of the urns in both hands. It was lighter than she expected. Curious, she opened the urn and looked in at her father's remains. "Is that a... Tic-tac?" she asked, angling the jar so Marshall could see it.

"The uh -" the funeral worker stammered, "the remains were spilt... We did our best to retrieve them but..."

The man's earnest stammer was too much for Mary. She burst into hysterical laughter.

Lauren joined her in her laughing fit and the two women held their sides as they collapsed onto the ground.

Marshall watched the half sisters and a smile spread across his chiseled features. After allowing them a suitable amount of time laughing on the ground, he walked up to them and held a hand out to each of them to help them up.

Lauren took his hand graciously and blushed as she lost her balance. Marshall steadied her with one arm while helping Mary up at the same time. "Thanks," she said shyly once she regained her footing.

When they finally exited the funeral parlor, the attendant breathed an enormous sigh of relief. Working with the dead was supposed to be vaguely depressing and completely boring. It was not a job that was supposed to see police action.

/\\\\/\\\\/\\\\

God, it was good to be home. Mary threw her go bag down by the door and collapsed on the couch, too tired to even bother taking off her shoes. She felt like she could sleep forever.

Marshall sat on the couch with her and moved her feet into his lap. He began to rub them while he watched her rest.

Drifting off to sleep, Marshall still rubbing her feet, Mary was very nearly content. She shifted as she felt Marshall gathering her into his arms.

Marshall carried her to her room and laid her on the bed. He kicked off his own shoes and removed his jacket before lying down next to her. He snuck his arm around her waist and snuggled up to her with his nose buried into her neck.

The funeral was scheduled for the next morning. After that, Mary was determined to get back to work. The shrink they'd stuck her with after her abduction had told her it was work that kept her sane and she believed it wholeheartedly. It would be nice to get back into the fourteen-hour days of witnesses. She was surprised how much she missed it; she even missed Charlie, Stan's latest protégé.


	15. Act V, Scene 2

Title: When in Doubt Act V, Scene 2

Author: The GPP

Rating: NC-17

Tagline: When in Doubt… Blame the FBI!

Summary: It's time for the funeral! Does anything ever happen lit it should when it comes to the Shannon family?

A/N: We're so sad that this is the final chapter! :( Let us know what you think!

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Birds sang good morning to the sun and there wasn't a cloud to be seen. It seemed to Mary as if the world itself was telling her it was a day for joy and not for mourning. There would be some of both before the sunset; of that, she was certain.

She showered, blew her hair out straight and dressed in black from head to toe. She didn't apply any makeup, tears were almost guaranteed and she would rather not have raccoon eyes on top of everything else. She went about her morning routine in silence, her mind nearly empty. She didn't want to think today.

Marshall ran home just long enough to grab his suit. He wore black pants with a black jacket, a black necktie, and a charcoal gray shirt. He sat on his bed and pulled on his cowboy boots that he had reserved for occasions such as these. They were shiny black leather and he had made sure to polish them before donning them.

He combed his hair back with a little bit of gel before grabbing his wool coat and heading back to Mary's.

She let Marshall drive her to the cemetery. She wasn't sure she could drive now and she knew she couldn't be able to drive home.

The green grass was damp with dew under her heels as they made their way to the graveside. She clung to Marshall's arm, borrowing strength from her rock solid partner.

It was a small gathering. Jinx leaned against Mike Faber, Brandi and Peter stood side by side, hands clasped, and Stan and Eleanor Prince stood a few meters back; supportive but not wanting to intrude. A priest stood just beside James' headstone, a worn brown leather bible in his hands.

Mary and Marshall stood closest to the gravestone, she leaned into his side. One hand absently reached up and grasped the Virgin Mary medallion she wore around her neck.

Marshall snuck his hand discreetly to her waist and pulled her closer. He tilted his head so that it rested on hers and placed a kiss there; not caring that Stan was a few feet away.

After the graveside ceremony, an open house was held at Mary's home. There were sandwiches and bottles of beer as well as non-alcoholic beverages for those who needed them. Various friends and acquaintances of the family stopped in to express their sympathies as well as to bring offerings of food and flowers.

Mary retreated to the shelter of her room fairly quickly. She couldn't take the curious stares from people who had only ever known James Shannon as the man who'd abandoned the Shannon women long before they came to Albuquerque.

Marshall waited a few minutes to give her space before following her. He knocked softly on the door. "Mare?"

Mary rose from her bed and opened the door. She gave him a half smile and gestured for him to enter.

He stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him. "What's going on?" he looked at her; searching her eyes for answers.

Mary sighed and began to pace the room. "It's these people. All these _friends_ coming to watch the spectacle." She ran her hands through her hair, "I feel like a circus freak."

Marshall's fingers itched to follow her hands as they wove through her golden tresses.

"Mare," he said softly; hoping to get her attention.

She stopped her pacing and turned to face to him. Her eyes were dry, but every inch of her face drooped with sadness.

He stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders. Marshall leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, "You're MY circus freak," he whispered before stepping back.

Mary laughed a little at that. "Doofus." She slipped into his arms and held him tight for a moment. "Is it my fault he's dead?" She asked in a child's voice.

Marshall looked at her in disbelief. How could she think that?

"Listen to me," he pulled her back so he could look into her eyes once again, "none of this is your fault. You're not the one who exposed his identity."

"The letters." She said softly. "If I'd kept them to myself... or burned them without reading..." Tears welled up in her eyes and one by one spilled down her cheeks.

"Mare, hindsight is 20/20 but we both know those letters were a good thing for you. They let you know that your father loved you. No one would have known they existed if your mother hadn't told Agent Faber about them."

Mary searched his eyes for a moment, considering his words. She nodded slowly, tears drying as anger surged hot through her veins. "You're right." Her eyes hardened and turned dark green as the anger she felt spread through her body.

Marshall pulled back and attempted to read her thoughts. She looked dangerous and he wanted to make sure she wasn't going to do anything that she'd regret later. "Tell me what you need," he said softly hoping to talk her down.

"Wait here?" She asked, unable to meet his eyes directly, knowing if he saw the rage burning within them he would never agree to let her out of the room alone.

"What's going on inside your beautiful head?"

"Closure." A smile flickered across her lips at the thought.

Marshall saw her plans the minute that smile appeared. "Can I watch?"

She met his eyes this time, expression calculating. "You won't interfere? I'm a big girl. I don't need your help on this one."

"Oh, hell no... I know when to stay out of your way. Just make sure you use your first two knuckles this time. You've been working on your right hook, right?"

This time the smile stayed, "Thanks for the tip, coach." She said rising on her tip toes to press a quick kiss against his cheek.

"Go get'im, Dragon Lady," he smacked her on the butt as she left the room and he eagerly snuck into the living room to watch.

Mary didn't even object to the nickname. She strode into the backyard with purpose; her eyes locked on Faber. There was no force on earth strong enough to derail this train.

Agent Mike Faber stood by the pool, a glass of red wine in his left hand. He gestured with his right hand as he spoke. He was in his element. Most of the people at the house had never met a real live FBI agent before and were eager listeners; it didn't seem to matter than most of what he said had happened to someone else, often a fictional character from a novel he'd read. They thought he was fascinating.

Jinx had wandered off a few minutes ago and he'd barely noticed.

What he did notice however, was Mary Shannon walking purposefully across the lawn, a predatory glint in her eyes.

"Mary," He said brightly when she was close, "There you are. Your mother was looking for you." It was a bald-faced lie, but he wasn't FBI for nothing.

Jinx was across the yard talking to some of her friends when she saw Mary striding across the yard. She frantically looked for Marshall; when she didn't see him, she made her way back to Mike.

Inside, Marshall was bouncing in anticipation.

"Faber." Mary said coldly, stopping a few inches from him.

"Sweet Pea," Jinx said in her pitiful voice, "what's going on?"

"This man," Mary spat the word man, grinning on the inside when Faber flinched, "is the reason we are all here for this glorious celebration."

Jinx interrupted her, "Mary..."

"Now, Kitten," Faber held his hands up.

Marshall made his way closer to the sliding door; he did not want to miss this.

Mary's eyes narrowed at the hated nickname. She took half a step backwards to give herself swinging room and punched Faber in the face.

Her first two knuckles collided with his nose and there was a sickening crunch of bone and cartilage. Faber staggered backwards as he tried to regain his balance.

Unfortunately, he forgot about the pool until it was too late. The sound of his body hitting water brought all conversation to a halt as thirty people turned as one to see what was going on.

Marshall cringed as he saw her fist make contact with his nose; he'd have to take a look at it later to make sure it wasn't broken. Stepping outside, he made his presence known, "Is there a problem here?" His eyes smiled as he struggled to keep his face stoic and calm. Inside, he was jumping around like a kid on Christmas.

"Not at all." Mary said, grinning up at him.

Faber spluttered to the surface, blood streaming from his, probably broken, nose. "Bitch!"

Marshall's head whirled around as Faber said this; his eyes darkened with smoky blue fire. Reaching into the pool, he grabbed Faber by the tie and pulled him closer to the edge. Crouching down, he leaned in real close to Faber's face and sneered at the older man.

"Don't you EVER let me hear you call her that again you worthless son of a bitch," he tightened his grip on the necktie and dragged Faber higher into the air with a surprising amount of strength. He swung his right hand back as he twisted his upper body to give him momentum as he swung wide to punch him in the left cheek. Faber's jaw cracked under the force of Marshall's punch and he flew back into the pool as the grip on his tie was loosened.

Marshall turned to Mary and shrugged, "Sorry, I couldn't help it. I'll still keep my other promise though," he said as he turned to walk back into the house.

Mary turned to look at the group of relative strangers in her backyard. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be alone with Marshall. "Alright, show's over," she said, "thank you all for coming."

It didn't take long for the house to clear. No one wanted to risk Mary's wrath. Mary called an ambulance to pick up Faber as Jinx was too angry to drive safely. Within an hour, she had her wish.

"You want me to go too?" Marshall was sitting on the couch; looking at her sheepishly while icing his hand. He held an ice pack out for her to take.

Mary sat in his lap and wrapped both arms around him. "Never. You owe me an entire weekend, remember?"

"I suppose I can live up to that promise," he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her to him.

"You better," She took the ice pack and held it menacingly in front of his face for a moment before applying it to her swollen hand.

Marshall kissed her while turning her so that her back was to the couch; the majority of the day almost forgotten. "Did you know that the first known contraceptive was crocodile dung? It was used by the Egyptians in 2,000 B.C." he murmured against her lips.

"Idiot." Mary whispered. She could feel the rumble of his laughter as she kissed him. It was perfect.


	16. Epilogue

Title: When in Doubt

Author: The GPP

Rating: NC-17

Author Notes: Well, we've reached the end of the journey. We know what you're thinking; "I thought the last entry was the final chapter?" Well SURPRISE! We have an Epilogue! Enjoy and thank you for sticking with us for all 16 parts! We're glad you enjoyed it!

_Sunday, February 19, 2012_  
_4:36 am_

Mary rolled out of bed silently so as not to disturb Marshall. A quick glance at his side of the bed proved she was successful. The lump that was her Marshall had not moved. Moving throughout the room, she quickly gathered up her sneakers, jacket and a flashlight as well as a pair of jeans. She wouldn't need her gun; not for this.

These items in hand, she tiptoed to her living room where she changed into the jeans and put on the jacket. Mary crept up to the door, unlocked it and stepped out into the crisp early morning air. Only then, did she put her sneakers on. She waited a block before finally turning on her flashlight. Her chest swelled with pride when she realized that she'd managed to sneak out without disturbing Marshall.

Then came the guilt. She'd promised to keep him involved in everything; to not shut him out. Mary attempted to shrug off the guilt, _I'm just visiting. I'll tell him about it when I get home,_ she told herself.

It was a short walk to the cemetery. Mary hugged her arms to her chest as she approached the gate. Turning off her flashlight, she made her way through the rows of headstones; she had this route memorized by now.

She felt the familiar bumps in the earth as she neared James' headstone. Turning the flashlight on once more, she did a mental threat assessment before sitting on the ground against the stone. The early morning sky was clear and dotted with millions of stars. Mary took a deep, shaky breath as she leaned back to gaze at the sky.

"Remember when we did this, Daddy?" she spoke to herself and the heavens, "Every year, we would go out after everyone was asleep. You'd wake me up really late and we would sneak out with a thermos of hot chocolate. I would sleep in the truck as you brought us to the highest and darkest point you could find. We'd lie on the blankets and share the cocoa as meteors shot across the sky," Mary's voice cracked as one streaked across her vision at that moment, "You sent that one, didn't you Daddy?"

The tears began to flow more freely and Mary sat up to hug her knees to her chest. Her body shook as it was racked with sobs. She sat there crying and lost track of time.

She didn't hear Marshall behind her until he was sitting beside her.

"Jesus, Marshall!" she clutched her chest and attempted to regain a normal breathing pattern, "I could have shot you! You know better than to sneak up on me; especially in a cemetery at night!"

"You left your gun at home," Marshall put an arm around her shoulders.

"Well, still, you know better than to sneak up on me like that," she crossed her arms in front of her chest but leaned into him nonetheless.

Marshall kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek on her hair.

"How did you know I was here?" she whispered, "I thought I was exceptionally ninja in my escape," she kept her gaze on the stars above as she felt him nuzzle the top of her head.

"I've been here for a couple of hours already," he said, "I still doubt your ninja abilities; however, I was here before you were."

Mary whirled around to face him with a look of surprise, "But I saw you in bed as I left!"

"Ferris Beuller may have had more of an effect on my life than I thought…" he kissed her on the nose before shifting so he leaned on the stone and she was in his lap. Mary considered herself beat as she settled herself against him to watch the sky once more.

They sat there until the sun came up; splashes of pink, orange, and yellow flowed across the sky; there really was nothing like the beauty of a New Mexican sunrise. Marshall wrapped his strong arms around her and hugged her from behind. Pulling her hair away from her neck, he placed gentle, loving kisses along it.

"Care to get some breakfast?" he murmured against her neck. He felt her nod and took that as his cue to stand. He offered her his hand and cringed when he heard her joints crack as she stood. He held her close to her side as they made their way out of the cemetery and into the closest diner.

"What's going on, Mare?" Marshall took a sip of his coffee and stared intently at the woman across from him.

Mary remained silent as she stared at her half-eaten pancakes. Marshall reached over with a single finger and dipped it in the Nutella that replaced her usual syrup. She'd gone for the comfort food.

"Mary, talk to me," he reached across the table once again; this time to grab her hand, "I know what today is."

Mary laced her fingers with his and forced herself to meet his eyes. Marshall's gaze held nothing but love and offered nothing but comfort. She squeezed his hand and offered him a small smile.

"Today is another day," her smile met her eyes, "and I am luckier today than I was yesterday."

Marshall lifted their linked hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles before turning back to his breakfast. Her answer satisfied him for the time being; he knew she'd open up when she wanted to.

Likewise, Mary finished off her Nutella pancakes with gusto. She didn't even question why this diner had Nutella, of all things.

They took their time getting home; simply content to wander about the city and enjoy the cool Sunday morning. It was lunch time when they finally made it back to the house. Mary breezed into the house and immediately went to inspect the mess of pillows she'd believed was Marshall.

"I can't believe I fell for this!" she picked up two of them and stalked towards Marshall. She found him in the living room with a large envelope in his hands. He looked up at her as she entered the room.

Mary recognized his protective expression as she made her way to his side of the room.

"What'cha got there, Doofus?" she peeked over the lip of the cardboard envelope and immediately noticed the official FBI seal. Her body tensed as she remembered the last time one of these had been in her house.

With shaking hands, she took the envelope from Marshall and sat down on the couch to open it. Marshall sat beside her as she pulled out a smaller envelope. This one was singed on the edges and looked as if it had been opened many times before now. The address was written in James' handwriting and Mary ran her fingertips over it.

Marshall leaned in to press a kiss to her temple before whispering into her ear, "Do you want to be alone?"

Mary didn't know if she wanted him to go or stay. She shifted on the couch so she was resting on the opposite armrest. Marshall took this hint and leaned against the other one as he watched her eyes dance across the letter she'd unfolded from the envelope.

Mary sucked in a silent breath as the words became visible on the paper. Tears had already begun to prick the corners of her eyes and she willed them back until she was done reading.

_Dearest Mary,_

_I don't have much time left. Feelings of paranoia have set in; they're watching me and I know they're plotting. Ideally, I'll have moved away before they can get to me but we both know that isn't likely to happen. I wanted to write you one last letter before I go._

_Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I thought long and hard about taking you and your sister with me; I really did but your lives would have been in danger and I couldn't live with myself if I had lost you for good. It was selfish of me, I know, but I couldn't bring you with me; I was ashamed of all that I had done._

_So, when I was offered the chance to turn my life around, I grabbed it. You may have heard some horrible things about me from your mother, (and, rest assured, most of them are true), but never doubt my love for you and your sister._

_I've seen you, you know. I've seen you during various points in your life. I had to make sure you were okay. I was at each of your graduations, and I visited you when you were shot. I've saw you with that Hispanic baseball player and I see you now with that taller man. I see how he brings out your inner light. Hold onto that light and keep on shining._

_Be happy, my angel. Don't let my mistakes interfere with your true happiness. The taller man makes your eyes shine in a way I'd never seen. Learn to let him completely and unabashedly into your heart and soul. Let me go; you only need one man in your life._

_A million kisses, the sun, and the moon._

_Love, _

_Daddy_

Her tears flowed like rivers down her cheeks and she held the letter at a distance so she wouldn't ruin the paper any more than it had been. This was the letter he was mailing right before the explosion; right before he had locked eyes with her. She'd only seen him put one letter into the mailbox so she assumed he hadn't sent one to Lauren or any of the Griffins.

Just her.

Marshall watched her as she sobbed; willing himself to not be at her side as was his reflex. She should come to him this time. He felt it was safe to assume that it was a letter from her father; he briefly remembered seeing him mail one the day he died. The FBI must have sent this to her now that their investigation on him was finished.

Mary read and re-read the letter in an attempt to memorize it. Her tears subsided after the fourth time through and she snuggled closer to Marshall. Her eyes drifted over what her father had written about Marshall and she smiled. She laid her head in his lap and grasped one of his hands in hers and tilted the letter so he could read it.

"Marshall," she whispered from his lap.

"Yeah, Mare?" he looked away from the letter and into her eyes.

"Marry me?"


End file.
